


The First Kiss

by spacecrunched



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: M/M, at the very least there will be hints of black eye, black eye (peepers/sylvia), skeleton dance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 89,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7251562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecrunched/pseuds/spacecrunched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Uh, no,” He looked from Wander’s eyes to his mouth, feeling a befuddling amount of confliction. “Guess there—there is a first time for everything, though, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Wander agreed, and Hater could see him follow his vision, see Wander’s own eyes go from Hater’s eyes to his mouth. “First times can be a whole lotta fun.”</p><p>“They can also be complete disasters,” Hater’s eyes momentarily hardened with their usual distaste. “Especially when it involves you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: The First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, just an idea I've been throwing around for a while. It's not beta'd and it's really just a feel good, self indulgent fic of mine I've been trying to get out before the final. If everything goes right, this should be made up of 3-4 parts. Let's see if I can find the motivation, though. I don't own any of the characters, the usual legal jargon. Enjoy!

So, this was what a broken heart felt like. The heaviness in his chest, along with the queasiness in his stomach and the breathlessness in his lungs that came with getting one's feelings trampled. Lord Hater felt like he was dying, which seemed impossible for a skeleton, but still there he sat alone in one of his many Smooching rooms wishing he could waste away.

Peepers so far had done a dutiful enough job of keeping everyone from interrupting his mourning, Watchdogs included. Except for an occasional peek inside, an offer for companionship, or dropping off a plate or two from the kitchens, even Peepers made himself scarce. Apart from meals, all of Peeper’s advances to comfort him were ignored.

Lord Hater was hurt, devastated, and just utterly heartsick. It was his universe and he would cry if he wanted to, and if he wanted to sob unabashedly in the confines of his loneliness, well Grop darn-it, he would! After all, it wasn’t like a better version of himself—a hot, pretty, cute and girly version of himself—stomped on his hopes of settling down with the villainess of his dreams or anything. Visions of them holding hands and running through a field of flaming tulips made the heaviness in his chest feel all the more crushing, and it took everything within Hater not to start a fresh round of sniveling.

 _Why didn’t she like him!?_ He was the greatest in the universe, after all! He was handsome, fit, and could fire totally awesome electric bolts from his hands that would easily destroy their naysayers. They could rule the galaxy with an icy, molten, electric fist if she had just given him the chance! With the lights dimmed low and the sad sounds of the blues looping in the background, Hater flicked at a forgotten chicken bone from the last plate of wings Peeper had brought him, cradling his chin with a forlorn sigh.

It was simply unfair that girls always seemed to see right through him. Pretty girls from all corners of the galaxy should have been lining up outside the Skullship in the hopes of getting a glance at Hater, and yet here he was, sitting alone in a room that had never been properly utilized. What good was a Smooch room when there was no one to smooch!?

At the very least, Hater had his bedroom, which could act as a sob-room for this very occasion. With plans of wrapping himself up in his blanket and bawling into his pillow for a few more days, Hater slid across the smooth cushion of the booth with plans of exiting, but stopped short when a mysterious something collided head on with his person.

The record player skipped and silenced, making Hater tense up. He initially wanted to scream in fear of the intruder, which depending on his adversary, would be bruising to his already aching ego. Luckily for Hater, he scooted backwards instead, moving as far away as possible, till his spine hit the back of the booth. In retrospect, it probably looked fairly weak for the most Evil Conqueror of the Galaxy, but Hater didn’t dwell too much on it, far too busy fearing for his life.

Up until he realized who was sitting in the booth beside him.

Sitting opposite of Hater was the last orange fuzzball the Skele-Lord wanted to see. There sat the insufferable Wander, with his floppy hat and stupid smile, hands folded neatly on his lap. He had the decency to at least look guilty as Hater’s eyes came into focus of what exactly he was looking at, but he was oblivious as ever to the skeleton’s rage.

“You,” Hater could feel electricity flow from the tips of his fingers as he bared his teeth and loomed over Wander. “ _Wander_!”

“You!” Wander responded cheerfully enough. “Hater! I’m so glad t’see you’re already lookin’ your ol’-self again! Cryin’ never really suits anyone, unless it’s from laughter, a’course.”

“Old-self?” Hater repeated, dreading the worst. Hater instantly reared back into the booth, much like a few moments ago. Crying like a lovesick teenager in front of the guy you wanted to torture and maim was never a good look. “How—how much did you see!?”

Hater’s worst suspicions were confirmed when Wander curled up close, looping his gangling arms around Hater’s middle.

“I saw enough! Awww, Hatey,” Wander stroked along the top of Hater’s head, till his antennas bounced about. “You’re _real_ hung up on Lord Dominator, arentcha?”

Hater’s eyes nearly popped from out of his skull. “ _NO_!” After looking about the room quickly, Hater pushed at Wander’s forehead to no avail. Miraculously, Wander’s arms extended with every push of his palm. “I wasn’t —I didn’t— _I am not_!”

“It’s okay, Hater! It really is no fun havin’ your heart broken,” Wander assured him as he hugged Hater harder. He disregarded the way Hater squirmed and pulled at his arms. “And well, shucks—sometimes, it’s even okay to cry! Sounds like you jus’ need a lil’ emotional release is all!”

“I. Was. Not. _Crying!_ ” Hater growled dangerously down at Wander, eyes bloodshot and pointing at him like daggers.

“Oh, Hater, y’don’t have to lie,” Wander put a supportive hand on his shoulder, gesturing at his chest just before Hater could shrug it off. “We’ve been friends long enough, y’don’t need to hide your feelin’s from me!”

Wander finally let go of Hater, but the skeleton’s relief was short lived when he gazed up at him sympathetically. “Y’know you can tell me anythin’, Hatey.”

Hater tightened his fists and gnashed his teeth, electricity coursing through him as he eyed the furry… _whatever_ Wander was with angry scrutiny. It mystified him to no end on just how in Grop’s name Wander always managed to worm his way into his business. Whether it was ruining his plans, embarrassing him, or just plain being annoying, Wander miraculously could show up at all the wrong times. He was a constant uninvited “guest” on Hater’s ship, on the planets he conquered, and since his first, fateful appearance, nearly every other aspect of his existence, his love life included.

Hater thought back to love, to Dominator, and his shoulders visibly sagged. With the wound too fresh, he was quick to think back to her and in turn, his hurt, as he crossed his arms and shrunk into the back of his seat. Wander took notice, making a move to hug him again, but a quick, flat palm planting itself on Wander’s head kept him in place.

“Pfft, _feelings —_like I, LORD HATER, _GREATEST IN THE GALAXY_ , have feelings. Let alone feelings to talk about,” he bared his teeth as he lowered his hand from its spot on Wander, not without a few streaks of lightning twitching along his fingers. “Let alone with _you_.”

Wander minded his personal space this time, but of course, not without a smile.

“Now, Hater—we both know y’have _plenty_ of feelin’s!” Before Hater could verify that indeed, at the very least, he had feelings of mass hatred for the creature in front of him, Wander perked up and slid closer once more, this time thankfully keeping his hands to himself. “Anyone who can two-step like that has gotta have at least a'lil’ feelin’ in ‘em!”

Hater rolled his eyes, pounding his fists on the table, enough to make some of the loose wrappers from a few of his meals tumble to the ground. “That was just to impress _her_! Which, ugh, clearly didn’t work, because she rejected me, and she laughed at me, and she threatened to imprison me, which didn’t go at all with the plans I've drawn out for our future together, _and_ she, she has a cool suit, and cool lava powers, and, and —”

Before Hater could realize what was happening, he could feel his jaw quivering and his eyes watering. He didn’t like the way Wander’s eyes grew wide and his own lip trembled, and Hater was quick to look away, not without rubbing furiously at his face.

“HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE ANYWAY!?” Hater couldn’t—wouldn't do sad, especially in front of Wander. “I THOUGHT I TOLD PEEPER’S TO BOOBY-TRAP THE VENTS AGAIN!”

The only reaction Hater received was Wander’s eyes, big, dopey and wide, which were putting him further and further on edge the longer they stared at him, glazed over and wet.

“Can—CAN YOU STOP DOING THAT?!” Quite frankly it made him feel weird, tip-toeing creepy.

“Y’really did love her, didn’t ya Hater?” Wander sniffled as he rubbed what would be his nose along his arm, fisting a hand in Hater’s robe, much to his chagrin.

“No!” Hater said all too quickly, giving a side-eyed glance before glaring down at him again. “Forget romance. Forget _girls_. Who needs ‘em.” Hater murmured as he pushed Wander off of him.

“Awww, what’s wrong with girls?” Wander tried, hugging himself tight with both arms. “They have pretty hair and makeup, they smell nice. What’s not t’like?”

“There is plenty to dislike, believe me,” Scoffed Hater, narrowing his eyes. “Can’t seem to see a catch in front of them, for one thing.”

“Well, Hatey,” Wander gave a modest shrug, kicking his legs back and forth from off the booth. “Ever think you’re pullin’ in your bait just a bit too fast?” Hater snorted derisively.

“I’ve been around the universe and back, and not one, single girlfriend to show, I’ve been ‘fishing’ long enough.” Hater’s little patience was stretching thin.

“Well, maybe y’need to change your strategy, up the anty a bit!” Standing in his seat, Wander threw his arm forward, tossing out an imaginary fishing line. “Get some new tackle—Oooooh, the fancy kind! The one’s that are shiny and colorful,” Wander smiled as he pretended to turn in a reel. “Y’gotta lure them in with somethin’ special!”

Hater clenched his fists and grimaced, felt his tolerance drawing tight like a rubberband. “I put on a full musical number for a girl, for Grop’s sake, if that’s not special, than _what is_!?” He scoffed. “And what, since when is being the GREATEST VILLAIN IN THE WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE not something worthwhile, huh?!”

Hater’s breathing was already picking up in speed and depth as he felt anger course through him like magma. It only began to soften when he was met with, surprisingly enough, Wander’s silence. He had to turn his head down to see the nomad staring upwards, and for once, Hater couldn’t read the sheer emotion on Wander’s face. It was then that Hater realized Wander was hesitating.

“...I don’t mean t’pry, but,” Again, Wander paused. “Who says y’need a _girlfriend_?”

Hater blinked at Wander as if he had sprang another, furry, orange head, hat and all. “What?”

Wander’s smile, only temporarily missing, grew back wider than before. It brought forth Hater’s worst fears that an idea was growing on Wander the more seconds he had to stew on it.

“Well, who says your special someone needs t’be a girl?” Wander shrugged his shoulders, still grinning full-heartedly.

“Because, jeez I don’t know, it’s right in the name?! ‘GIRL’ is attached to ‘FRIEND,’ meaning you need to find a girl to have one!” Hater snorted, clearly not catching onto what Wander was alluding to. “Besides, who else likes cute fluffy things, colorful stuff and frilly dresses?”

“Well,” Wander began to tap the ends of his fingers together, in a surprising show of nerves. “Golly, I like all those things!”

“Yeah, but,” Hater threw a disgusted look in the nomad’s direction. “You’re _you_.”

For a split second, Wander appeared hurt, his eyebrows lowering, his smile faltering. Hater told himself it made him feel good, if only briefly.

“You—Do y’think that’s a bad thing?”

Hater opened his jaw to reply that, yes, _anything_ that had to do with Wander was a bad thing, but he slowly pulled his mouth shut. Unless directly part of his schemes, those traits of Wander weren’t bad. At best, they were annoying, if only out his frustration for the nomad in general.

“No,” Hater answered, rolling his eyes. “They don’t make me hate you anymore than I already do, so you can stop looking like someone went and kicked your pet already.”

This seemed to have worked, cheering up Wander substantially, and he slid close again, till his thin, scrawny leg was pressed against Hater’s bony thigh.

“Hater,” Ignorant to his personal space, Wander leaned in close, eyes half-lidded, but Hater could see the reflection of his discomfort in Wander’s pupils. “Ever think, I dunno, y’might be fishin’ about the wrong pond?”

“Can we STOP with the fishing euphemisms already?!” Just like that, Hater’s blood was back to a boil. “Besides, WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?”

“Oh my goodness me, I guess I ain’t really bein’ too clear enough,” Wander sat back, giving Hater his much needed space, as he pulled his hat off his head a bit meekly. “It’s jus’—I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is—have you ever thought about meetin’ a _boy_ instead?”

“A boy?” Hater couldn’t stop the question from tumbling out of his mouth, as flat as the look on his face.

He didn’t really have much use for friends, apart from Peepers, who served as a “best friend” when Hater found it necessary. His idea of comrades were more of the _serve-and-obey-his-every-command_ type anyway, which he had plenty of with his Watchdogs. Taking on more “companions” seemed more of a burden to Lord Hater. Why have friends when you could have subjects to rule and order around?

“Yeah!” Wander tried, shrugging modestly as he pressed his cheek against Hater’s ribcage. “Like a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, no,” Hater rolled his eyes, stiffly reaching over to give Wander a push. “If you have taught me anything about ‘friendship,’ it’s that it’s annoying, clingy, and never quite gets the message.” he assured through gritted teeth.

“Well, it’d be a lil’ more than friendship,” Wander tried, but he continued to only receive a glare from Hater. “Like—well, what if instead of kissin’ a girl, y’kissed a boy?”

“Kiss a _boy_!?” Hater shot back, almost accusingly.

“Yeah!” Wander leapt up on the cushions excitedly before sitting cross-legged beside Hater, cocking his head to the side. “What does it matter who and what you’re kissin’, s’long as y’both want it?”

“B-because,” Hater tried to find a flaw in Wander’s point, but continuously came up with nothing, growing quiet. Really, there was nothing wrong with two boys kissing. Or two girls kissing. Or two different species kissing, for that matter. If everyone was consenting, where was the harm in it?

“Canoodling” was off limits during a Watchdog’s shift but off hours, there was no such discretion. Hater wondered then if any of his henchmen were dating, or kissing at the very least, and his mind wondered before he could help himself. Turning a light shade of green, Hater didn’t like the image, but wasn’t necessarily repulsed by it either.

After a long pause and a narrow of his eyes, Hater seceded. “Maybe there’s no problem with that. Kissing a boy, I mean.”

“So, you’d kiss one?”

“A boy?” Hater asked, as firmly as before, receiving a heady nod from Wander.

Hater contemplated the answer. To be honest, he hadn’t thought of it previously. Anytime he had visions of kissing someone, it was a girl. Maybe not the traditional standards of a girl—but a “girl” none the less. With long hair, soft lips and round curves. Okay, so maybe he did have a “type,” but that didn’t leave him closed off to other options.

Besides, it was sort of hard being choosey when you hadn’t kissed anyone before.

After tossing the idea back and forth in his skull, Hater relented with a signature frown and a roll of his shoulders.

“I guess.”

“Well,” Wander looked as encouraging and jovial as ever. “That opens your datin’ pool by a significant margin, now doesn’t it?”

Hater shrugged again and repeated softer, “I guess. Doesn’t make romance any less dumb, though.”

“Hater,” A small, fuzzy hand found itself on one of Hater’s gloved knuckles, and Hater instinctively twitched away. “Jus’ ‘cause y’got burned once, doesn’t mean y’shouldn’t try again. Y’know what they say: t’know great love, y’need to know a lil’ tragedy, too.”

“Well, whoever said that is dumb and lame and never has had their heart broken.” Hater said dejectedly, glaring down at the tops of his sneakers. “Really, what a cop out. Like, what, is that supposed to make love ‘more worth it’ or something?”

Turning to look in the others direction, Hater could see Wander’s expression light up as he knotted his hands beneath his chin. With his chest puffed out and his lashes fluttering, Hater reared his head back when Wander’s face hovered too close.

“So they say, Hatey,” Wander’s smile pulled into something a little more amused than it’s usual dopiness. “Now y'catchin’ on!”

The proximity made Hater sweat uncomfortably. In the elusive light of the disco ball, he could see the fine hairs on Wander’s chin and his upper lip, which strangely stood out from the rest of his coat.

“Uh,” When green eyes met green, Hater had to look away. “Just who are _they_ , anyway?”

“Um, I think _they_ are just a metaphysical representation of popular opinion. Or somethin’.” Wander scratched at his chin thoughtfully before looking from his lap back to Hater, repeating this once or twice before his eyes could catch focus again. “Say Hater —Lord Dominator was an ‘enemy,’ a’yours, right? Even when y’liked her and everythin’?”

“ _Pfft_ ,” Hater gave an indignant sniff, as if the notion of her rejection didn’t offend him. “If she wasn’t then, she certainly is now! Not that I care!” He added with haste. “But yeah, why?”

She did, after all, have the gall to think she could be the Greatest in the Galaxy. ™, Copyrighted, All rights reserved. ‘ _As if ._ ’

“Well,” Due to his small stature, Wander’s shoes just reached the floor, and Hater watched as he nudged them about nervously across the tiles. “Y’didn’ seem to mind wantin’ to kiss her.”

Hater blinked at him before his usual wariness returned. “Yeah, and your point…?”

For some reason—Hater had never once tried to understand Wander’s asinine, happy-go-lucky logic—the scruffy, little creature stood up from his spot in the booth, teetering back and forth from toe to heel as he cleared his throat. Wander seemed suddenly all too focused on the rim of his hat, which once the article was pulled from off his head, he picked at, restless, while fidgeting left to right.

Wander’s presence, a burden from day one, didn’t help quell Hater’s own agitation. With the usually chipper and unflappable nomad being so stoic, and well, uneasy, it reminded Hater just who was standing in front of him: the orange, stupid lint-ball that was Wander.

The same moment Hater opened his mouth, full glare, to tell him to get lost already, Wander spoke up with a timidly raised finger.

“Y’know—jus’, a lil’ food for thought—jus’ throwin’ a few ideas around,” Wander offered Hater a wide, albeit cautious, smile. “Since y’were okay with kissin’ an enemy like Dominator and all, would y’ever consider kissin’ y' _Most Hated Enemy_ , per chance…?”

Wander’s smile weakened after a few moments of hard staring from Hater.

“Lord Dominator isn’t my most hated enemy,” Hater reminded him. “That would be you.”

“I know!” Wander’s smile returned to full strength, warm, shiny and blinding.

There were a few more seconds of Hater’s glaring before he gestured at the air in bewilderment. “So that would mean _kissing you_!”

“Well,” since the first time Hater learned of the misery that was Wander, the creature had the decency to blush, making the amber of his cheeks look rusty. “That—that was sort of, kind of— _maybe —_the point...?”

The validity and unabashed honesty from Wander knocked the air straight out from Hater’s nonexistent guts. The weight of his confusion felt suffocating as Wander pressed his hat back on his head, guiding his expression shyly towards the floor as he continued to ramble on.

“No, no pressure, obviously—not that there is _any_ pressure, at all, Hatey, I wouldn’t want to impose, or, or rush you, I’d want you to be honest —”

Wander’s attempts to explain himself were quickly drowned out by Lord Hater’s laughter. Deep guffaws shook the bones of Hater’s ribs as they slipped out of him in droves, the universal conqueror nearly tumbling to the floor after a poor attempt of bracing himself. He laughed so long his eyes began to water—it was a refreshing change from the crying he had been experiencing for the past few days.

“Me,” Hater tried but the laughter wouldn’t stop. “Kiss, kiss _YOU_!? What are you,” Hater broke into another bout of howling before he could finish his sentence, until his throat felt raw.

It was a full minute of loud, raucous snickering before Hater could gain back his composure, hand shaking as he swept a tear from his eye. After blinking away their weariness, Hater took in Wander’s appearance, and momentarily felt smug at his sorrowful expression.

Hater had expected big, fat doe-eyed tears but had received only a solemn type of glum from Wander. He wasn’t sure if that made it more or less enjoyable, to see him choke back his sadness with a strained smile, but it did prove that even Wander had a pride to bruise. With a vacant gaze, Wander took a deep breath, but the quiver in his voice was unmistakable.

“Whelp,” The tears hadn’t come but his eyes were noticeably glassy. “Thanks for taking it so well, Hater, it did seem a lil’ foolish,” Wander let out a laugh, but it was empty. “but y-y’never know unless y’ask, right?”

Wander hung his head and hunched himself close, shoulders drawing up to his cheeks as he wrung his hands together. The attempts to keep composure were slipping away as the corners of Wander’s grin slipped downwards into something bleak. Subconsciously or not, one, small hand reached up and pulled at the fur of his chest, and something squirmed in Hater at the sight, chilling, slimy and treacherous.

The echo of Dominator’s laughter filled his ears, and in those few seconds he relived her rejection, cruel, belittling and telling. His heart nearly broke all over again as he watched Wander wilt before him. At first, it was confusing, how his amusement could ebb away so fast, how he actually felt _a little_ bad, and he hated the stupid, star-nomad all the more for it. Hater found himself a little dumbstruck as Wander flashed him one, last sad attempt of a smile.

“I’ll let y’be, Hatey,” Wander rubbed at his shoulder as he stepped back towards an air vent, which Hater realized was sitting open inconspicuously along the wall. “Sylvia is probably lookin’ for me anyway, I’ll be seein’ y’soon?”

Wander was already moving away, his steps spry but his head hung low enough to amaze Hater that his hat didn’t tumble forward from off of him.

“Wait,” Hater said it before he could stop himself.

Wander slowed mid step, a single sneaker squeaking against the floor. When he turned around, he of course was smiling, and Hater was shocked to see it was a little more natural than it was a few seconds earlier.

“Yes?”

Hater instantly regretting stopping him from leaving, not exactly sure why he called out for him in the first place. Trying to figure it out made his skull throb, so he settled on scolding and questioning the nomad instead.

“You want to kiss me?” Hater asked suspiciously. “Well, who wouldn’t want to kiss me, but—but _you_?!”

Instead of howling with mean laughter, he blinked in wonderment. It was one thing that Wander continued, time and time again, to try and befriend him, in a tormenting attempt to “enlighten” Hater on the joys of life, but to want to _kiss_ him? The more Hater had to sit on the whole idea made him realize it was no longer a joking matter.

Wander looked mildly surprised himself, blinking wide eyes before smiling coyly.

“Well,” Tapping the ends of his forefingers together, he giggled. “Y’did say so yourself, Hatey, who _doesn’t_ wanna kiss you?”

Hater’s eye twitched as Wander’s revelation continued to shock him.

“Does that mean _you_ ,” Hater pointed at him, but it lacked its usual accusations and harshness. “Does that mean you think I’m _hot_ or something?”

“Um,” Wander bit his bottom lip and again, his face flushed. “Yes?”

Hater’s jaw clanked to the floor and Wander gasped.

“Oh my goodness, Hater—!”

Hater stood and quickly hinged his chin back on, but his mouth remained agape. “You think I’m hot?! You! _You_ ! Wander! My most WANTED AND HATED ENEMY, want to KISS, _ME_ , and think I’m HOT?!”

Wander giggled, putting a hand to his mouth in a means of looking modest. “Hee. Guilty!”

Hater flopped back into his spot in the booth and watched Wander in awe, who bashfully stared up and down, from Hater to his very own feet. For a moment, the room spun, and Hater wasn’t sure if it was the realization hitting him like a sack of bricks or the disco ball twirling above. Whatever the reason, it didn’t make him feel any less daunted and overwhelmed by the news, and Wander seemed to notice.

“I was worried this was gonna happen,” Wander murmured under his breath as he rushed over. Before Hater could ask what he meant exactly, Wander was already back to sitting at his side, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hater, this doesn’t mean things have t’change. It’s okay, really! We can keep goin’ back to bein’ the best’a pals—”

“We are not pals,” Hater had the mind to murmur, although it was as flat as his stare. It did not stop him from remembering to brush Wander’s hand off, however.

“Annnnnd we can jus’, y’know,” Wander continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “Move on like this never happened!” Crossing a finger over his chest, Wander smiled. “Promise!”

Hater looked over at Wander, inwardly scoffing at his stupidity. _Of course_ this changed everything, and _of course_ he couldn’t just move on. His curiosity was ensuring that.

“...How long?”

“Huh?” Wander answered back modestly. “Oh, have I thought y’were,” he giggled again. “Hot?”

Hater nodded, feeling anxious over the answer.

“Hmmmm, well, would y’look at that, I’m not exactly sure!” Wander shrugged, scratching at his temple as he tried to think up an answer. “Probably was when we got stuck in that prison dimension a’yours together, when I _really_ think about it. We were spendin’ a lotta time together and, well —here we are!”

“You’ve wanted to kiss me,” Hater’s hairless brow pinched together. “For that long?”

Wander shrugged, peeking his tongue from out of his mouth, still stupidly cheerful despite Hater’s clear turmoil.

“But,” Hater tried to reason. “But all that help with Dominator—”

“Was because I knew she made y’happy! It would be too selfish a’me to get in the way of true love, I knew how much y’liked her,” Wander sighed, shaking his head with a frown. “It’s too bad it didn’t work out, I thought it woulda been good for the two of y’all—”

“Weren’t you jealous?” Hater could remember his own envy over fears of Lord Dominator forming an “alliance” with Emperor Awesome. He couldn’t imagine aiding his foe in trying to romance a crush of his, for the sheer fact he was possessive, and wanted her for himself. Then again, as Wander said, helping was sort of his “thing”—Hater guessed it wasn’t so far fetched that he would bypass his own desires to help Hater.

The whole idea didn’t make Hater feel any better.

Wander shrugged beside him, hands gripping the edge of his seat as he gave Hater a bit of a sideways smile. “What’s more important t’me is that you were happy, Hater. After all, as we agreed—plenty a’fish in the sea, for lil’ ol’ me included!”

Hater tried to imagine Wander—”intimately”—with someone but the pieces wouldn’t line up. It became easier when his eyes ran over the smaller creature in front of him, picturing his long, spindly limbs wrapped about some sap, face pressed against theirs, making lip smacking noises, _kissing_.

It was about the time his own mouth tingled that he noticed the sap in his head was him, and Hater could feel his face heat up with the realization.

“Hater!” Wander’s bushy brow rose in surprise. “You—I didn’t know y’blushed green!” Hater could feel his anger spike. “What exactly are y’thinkin’ about in that head a’yours?”

“SHUT UP! I wasn’t thinking about anything!” Hater said defensively, crossing his arms over his ribs. “If, if anything, I was thinking about the poor soul who would go ahead and kiss you.”

With hesitation, Hater’s glare softened with his next question. “Have you? I-I mean, y’know—kissed someone.”

“Hater, I wouldn’ kiss and tell!” Wander gave him a light, playful smack on the shoulder. “That ain’t gentleman like.”

“I’m not asking for a name!” Hater frowned, trying to at least convince himself he wasn’t emotionally invested in the answer. “Just—have you kissed someone or not, it’s an easy question!”

“Oh!” Wander smiled bashfully at Hater, and it made the skeleton feel a funny pull in his abdomen. “It’s been a long, _long_ time…” Wander admitted, crossing his legs at the knees as he blinked up at Hater. “Have you? Y’know —ever kissed someone?”

Hater’s voice locked up in his throat. Of course he hadn’t kissed anyone. The fact had been tormenting him for the past few days, thanks in part to Dominator’s rejection.

Not that Wander had to know that little detail.

“Of _course_ I have,” he scoffed, with bravado. “I’ve kissed _loads_ of girls. Pretty girls! _Sexy_ girls!” He maintained.

“But never a boy?” Wander reiterated, and Hater could feel his own face soften when the nomad's look waned.

Hater watched the doleful gleam in Wander’s eye when he managed to smile, again in a way that wasn’t all too… Wander-like.

“Uh, no,” He looked from Wander’s eyes to his mouth, feeling a befuddling amount of confliction. “Guess there—there is a first time for everything, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Wander agreed, and Hater could see him follow his vision, see Wander’s own eyes go from Hater’s eyes to his mouth. “First times can be a whole lotta fun.”

“They can also be complete disasters,” Hater’s eyes momentarily hardened with their usual distaste. “Especially when it involves you.”

“Y’funny, Hater.” Wander let out a giggle but unlike the usual fury it made Hater feel, it lit a fire in the dead center of his sternum. “Y’always do know how t’make me smile.”

The glint in Wander’s eyes was magnetic the longer Hater stared, drawing him further and further in. It wasn’t until he felt fur tickle his mouth did he realize they were kissing.

Teeth met teeth, scraped and clattered, and Hater instantly feared the worse:

He was having his first kiss with Wander of all people, and he wasn’t even doing a great job of it.

Wander reacted first, and when a tentative hand separated the two of them from between, Hater’s mind ran haywire with excuses.

“W-way to tickle me with your stupid, fuzzy fur,” at least the first one that tumbled haphazardly from out of his mouth worked well enough. “You made my mouth slip!”

“Hater,” he had expected some stupid response from Wander—he knew it was unlikely he would disagree with Hater or argue otherwise with him—but he did not expect amazement. “Did—did y’jus’ _kiss_ me?”

“Uh,” With a mind once brimming with excuses seconds ago, he was suddenly running dry of them. “Yes? You—you did say I was super hot and you wanted to kiss me, right? ”

“Yeah, but,” Wander hesitated, his expression blank. “Y’didn’ seem so keen on it earlier, is all.”

Hater realized that, well, he wasn’t. Earlier, that is. He had laughed at the mere idea not ten minutes ago, and yet there he was, with the rustic taste of Wander on where his lips would be.

“Well,” Hater flopped backwards against his seat and crossed his arms, annoyed that his first kiss was thoroughly ruined. “I changed my mind. I’m sort of the greatest, most powerful and rad conqueror that the universe has ever seen, I think I’m entitled to that!”

There were a few moments of silence before Hater turned back to Wander, intending to frown at the nomad, but instead he found himself doing a double take. There in the corner of Wander’s eyes were the fat, wet tears he had expected earlier, but instead of with sadness, the alien’s eyes watered with excitement. Hater immediately sighed and squeezed the spot above his nose in irritation.

“Y-y-y’wanna kiss me, Hatey?” Hater could see his reluctant expression in the wavering pools that were Wander’s eyes.

“If you’re going to make this weird, _no_ ,” he huffed, glaring forward, unable to meet the warm, gooey gaze of Wander. “If you promise to stop looking at me like that and not tell anyone—maybe.”

“I can do that!” Wander quickly screwed his face into a new expression, one which was more serious, yet the edges of his lips begged for a smile. “I can _not_ look at you like that and _not_ tell anyone! I did say a gentleman never kisses and tells, didn’t I?”

Wander’s eyebrows wiggled in a way that made Hater turn positively green with embarrassment.

“Alright, then, fine,” Hater felt more nervous then than during their first attempt; the last time happened with no real thought behind it. Now, sitting and fretting over it,  Hater was reminded of the pressure to do well. “Let’s—let’s kiss and get this over with.”

“Alrighty!” Wander giggled again. “Mind if I…?” But Wander was already sliding close enough for their legs to touch. “Jus’ gonna get a _lil’_ closer.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Hater was worried Wander could hear the nervous clatter of his shaking joints, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. ‘ _You can do this —you got this, Hater, you’re the greatest in the galaxy, you’re going to kiss the pants off this little, orange weirdo._’

It was then Hater remembered Wander had no pants to begin with.

“Hater?” Wander looked expectant, head tilting to the side. “Y’alright over there?”

“I’m—I’m fine! I was just,” Hater tried to think quickly. “Hey, shouldn’t it be _you_ kissing _me_ this time? Since, you know —I kissed you first and all?”

“Hm, well, I guess so,” Wander admitted with a tiny chuckle, making Hater turn to him with a glower. Anger quickly turned to surprise at Wander’s suddenly close proximity; they would have been nose to nose if either had one. “Seems only fair!”

Hater nearly recoiled when one of Wander’s small hands came up to hold his cheek, feeling fur slide against bone. It was a normal reaction to shy away from Wander’s touch, from anyone’s touch, but Hater willed himself to relax and Wander took notice.

Wander’s mouth was on him again and Hater realized how hyper-aware he was to the whole situation the second time around. Wander smelt like a combination of old leaves and freshly cut grass, a smell Hater had recognized around the space nomad before, but never could pinpoint previously.

Feeling frozen, Hater’s arms were planted firmly at his sides, eyes screwed shut in an attempt to gather his wits. A reel of romance films played in Hater’s head: awkward conversations between two adults, candle lit dinners, singing and laughing in the rain. In no context did they involve a dynasty of hatred nor a help-obsessed freak, and Hater was starting to grasp at straws.

Wander pulled away with an encouraging smile, and Hater’s face felt cold minus the warmth of his fuzz.

“Y’doin’ alright, Hatey?” Wander took a hold of Hater’s hand with the both of his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Y’seem a lil’ stiff.”

“Fine, totally fine,” Hater said a bit too quickly. The excuse that Wander’s fur had tickled him flashed in his mind until he realized he had used it already. “Just—gotta find my grove, is all, nothing else. I’m not, not nervous or anything, if that’s what you’re implying!”

“Not at all!” Wander swore. “I jus’ wanna make sure I’m makin’ you feel good, is all!” Hater sensed his reserve when he let go of Hater’s hand. “It felt good, r-right?”

Well, it definitely didn’t feel _bad_ , but it hadn’t exactly helped Hater see the big deal about kissing. “A little,” he could feel his face turning hot. “I—I want to try more.”

There had to be a reason people liked kissing so much, right?

Wander nodded excitedly before he titled his head to the side. “Hatey, if I may—can I try somethin’?”

Hater, initially wary, grew suspicious, but found himself nodding along. Wander looked pleased, standing briefly in his spot before plopping himself square on Hater’s lap, forcing a loud ‘ _ooof_!’ from the skeleton.

“ _What_ are you —”

“I jus’ wanted t’be a lil’ closer, is all,” Wander’s eyes were wide, and again Hater could see his reflection in his pupils. When the little alien bit his lip and flushed, it made Hater weak in a way he detested. “It’s easier t’kiss y’this way.”

Wander reached up with both hands till they were on either sides of Hater’s face, pressing their mouths back together. It was short and chaste, Wander pulling away with a small smile and half-lidded eyes. Again, he made Hater weak with his looks alone, and it made the skeleton feel funny.

“Y’can touch me too, y’know,” Wander murmured against Hater’s mouth, and he quickly figured out where the notion of him being too “stiff” had come from.

“Oh, uh,” At first, Hater merely reached for Wander before withdrawing his hand from him; where did the Space Nomad like to be touched, anyway? He kind of always looked like some weird… cat-monkey, thing, did he like to be pet? Back on his prison planet, he didn’t seem to mind. Hater threaded his fingers through the fur of Wander’s back, surprised to hear a quiver come from Wander’s throat. “This—this feel okay?”

Looking relaxed, one of Wander’s legs momentarily jiggled against Hater’s thigh, and Hater was briefly reminded of Captain Tim. “Y-yes, jus’—sorry, m’scalp is a lil’ sensitive and then it gets m’leg goin’, and then m’spine gets the tingle-tangles, and _then —_”

Hater, who was constantly subjected to Wander’s oral nonsense, decided to take it upon himself to kiss him again, if at the very least to shut him up. This time, when he rhythmically pet Wander, he could feel the little nomad murmur quietly against him. It took a moment or so for Hater to realize that Wander was purring, the vibration strong enough for Hater to feel it against his mouth.

The more Hater pet, the more Wander seemed to melt into him, and he could feel his furry hands travel from the sides of his face to his antenna’s. Hater pulled back from Wander, hand stopping his ministrations, as a whole shudder racked through him

“Oh,” Wander took notice, letting go of both appendages. “Too much?”

“No, just,” Hater took a deep breath, realizing he felt momentarily dizzy. “Sensitive there too, I guess.”

“Oh?” Wander giggled, reaching for one antenna this time, carefully brushing a finger along its ridges. “Y’a real good kisser, Hater—anyone ever tell y’that?”

“Pfft, o-obviously!” Hater chewed at the bone of his lower lip at the touch, his own foot twitching. “Loads of people— _hundreds_ , even, being the best in the galaxy comes with a bit of territory.”

It was getting hard to speak, and Hater realized after their last kiss, he hadn’t done much thinking at all, and it made the experience that more enjoyable. Right when he was about to reach down for more, Wander pulled away, looking as curious as Hater was bewildered.

“Um, Hater,” Wander continued his finger’s careful touching. “Have you ever—have you ever kissed with, well—your tongue?”

“My _tongue_!?” Hater reared his head back, moving said appendage about in his jaw. “...Uhhh, of course, who hasn’t!? That’s romance 101, Wander, so I’ve _definitely_ used it plenty of times! My tongue. For, for kissing, I mean.”

Nerves that had finally stopped plaguing Hater had returned tenfold, and he worried at the fur between his fingers. A _frzzerp kiss_ , so it was called. It seemed more advanced than a simple peck on the lips, involving a whole lot of tongue maneuvering and saliva. The whole _wetness_ and _exchange of fluids_ of it all kind of seemed gross to Hater. Wander was thankfully oblivious to his turmoil as he purred at his jittery petting, both hands finding their way back to Hater’s face.

“Oooh, I’m so excited!” Wander pressed himself against Hater’s chest, his tiny frame nearly sinking into his robes. There he was with those droopy, sparkly eyes again, making Hater’s throat tight. “I hope I ain’t bein’ too forward, Hatey.”

“You’re always forward,” Hater reminded him. Internally, he (poorly) convinced himself that Wander was enjoying himself thus far, and that again, he was the greatest in the galaxy, and if anyone could master a frzzerp kiss, it was him.

“I know I tend to get a’head of myself around you,” Wander pressed their lips together, speaking against Hater’s mouth. “It’s only ‘cause I like you, Hater.”

Before Hater could formulate a response, Wander’s tongue pressed flat against his mouth, licking a single, strip down the center of it. Hater could feel his fist clench in Wander’s fur as he pulled away to glower.

“...Can you _not_ drool on me!? What type of frzzerp kiss was that?!” Hater eye’s were wide with rage, but it only made Wander giggle.

“Well, y’gotta open up for me t’get in there, Hater!” Wander nuzzled his head beneath Hater’s chin and let out another purr. “Y’gotta open your mouth at least a lil’ for me to try!”

“I was going to!” Hater defended himself before pressing their mouths back together. “Jeez.”

This time Wander didn’t lick him, but he did keep their lips sealed together, waiting patiently as he ran another hand along Hater’s antenna. Hater involuntarily shivered at the touch, only realizing his mouth had opened when Wander managed to slip his tongue inside.

Hater tensed up at the new sensation, taking in the feeling of Wander’s tongue sliding and turning against his own. It had taken his brain a moment of hard thinking till it reached the rest of him, seeing the word _MOVE_ cycle continuously throughout his head up until the rest of his body listened. Hater tried his best to mimic Wander, who kissed him slow and easy, and Hater was thankful for it.

Was he using too much tongue? Too little? Hater wondered what he tasted like, if his taste was as obvious as Wander’s was for him. Wander tasted just liked he smelled, like fresh turned dirt and timber, but not unpleasantly so.

Wander pulled away and Hater could swear he saw stars in his eyes, the little nomad panting enough for Hater to realize how long they were lip-locking.

“W-wow Hater—y’use a lotta tongue,” Wander admitted, before his expression changed to something more feral. “I like it!”

“Y-you mean it?!” Hater realized what he was admitting when it was little too late, but he quickly recuperated. “I-I mean—of _course_ you do, I’m the best? B-but uh, really —you think I’m doing good?”

“ _Real_ good,” Wander assured, a faint purr trailing behind his voice. “But can you —would y’pet me a bit again? And try twistin’ your tongue back and forth a lil’ more too, I think y’really gonna like it.”

At Wander’s suggestion, Lord Hater worried that Wander was aware of his lack of experience, but before he could dwell on it, Wander’s mouth was back on his, tongue pressing forward. Hater tried his best to imitate Wander again and to heed his suggestions, curving his tongue along Wander’s, following his rhythm. The little hippie was right: he did _like_ it, and Hater was catching on to the appeal of this type of kissing.

Not forgetting his request, Hater stroked along Wander’s fur, starting from the back of his head and down the whole of his spine. Hater could feel the vibrations of Wander’s purr in his mouth almost instantly, and for the first time that evening, Hater felt a little proud.

Wander pressed himself closer and Hater could feel his spine arch into his touch. Compared to Hater, he was so small and deceivingly delicate, and it was fascinating to feel his tiny heart beat against Hater’s ribs. With the way it stammered, working quickly in his chest, Hater couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself.

Both of Wander’s hands sauntered their way back up to Hater’s antennas and carefully squeezed, taking the world ruler by surprise. Before he could stop himself, Hater tensed and sent sparks up into Wander’s mouth, quickly making the nomad leap back.

“Oh jeez, did—you alright?” Hater panicked, sounding way too concerned than he cared for.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine!” Wander assured, snapping his lips together. From inside his mouth, Hater could see green static electricity move across Wander’s tongue. “Jus’ surprised me, is all!”

“H-hey, you surprised me first!” Hater crossed his arms, glaring off to the side. There was no way he felt bad, he tried to convince himself, and he sure wasn’t going to apologize for it. Kiss or not, Wander was still his greatest enemy, after all.

“I actually, well,” Wander caught his attention when he suddenly appeared bashful. “It was kinda nice, is all I was tryin’ t’say.”

Now that really took Hater by surprise.

“It didn’t—it didn’t hurt?” From what Hater had felt, it was an incredibly light shock, so it didn’t seem too far fetched.

“No, not at all, actually,” Wander purred as he nuzzled himself along the column of Hater’s neck, letting out a happy chirp. “It felt really tingly and numb, I liked it!”

With Wander still pressed close against his ribs, Hater found himself face to face with the space nomad again, and his half-lidded eyes sparkling with interest. “Can we do it again?”

It wasn’t the first time today that Wander had given him a funny feeling, however it was the first time said “funny feeling” manifested itself somewhere a bit _lower_ in Hater’s robes.

“Uhhhhh,” Hater cleared his throat, attempting to control himself. “Sure?”

It was all the prompting Wander needed when he excitedly pressed their mouths together, letting out a whimper that Hater was more than receptive to. The longer they kissed, the more natural it felt for Hater, and soon enough he was able to channel a gentle spark along the both of their tongues.

Careful to keep it light, low pulses of electricity danced back and forth between Hater’s mouth to Wander’s and then back again, till it steadily bounced between each others tongues. The longer they kissed, the progressively more heated and hungrier their kiss became, until Hater was trying to play keep-up with the eager, little Wanderer.

Unsure of when he had closed his eyes, Hater reached for Wander blindly, till his hand brushed against his front. The shiver that wracked through Wander’s body finally broke them from their make out, and Hater, after blinking his eyes open, discovered Wander had his eyes closed the whole kiss, too.

“Hnng, Hatey,” Wander’s eyelids fluttered as he flushed again, piquing Hater's interest. “Careful, I’m, I’m a lil’ sensitive there, too.”

Curiosity took ahold of Hater and he raised an eye ridge. Any weakness of Wander’s was worth exploiting, so he took the liberty of raking his fingers down the whole front of him, starting from his chest to his stomach.

The tips of his fingers brushed against not one, not three, but _six_ little knobs when he caressed Wander’s abdomen. Observing Wander tense up visibly, Hater did it again, and was taken back when the alien crossed his legs by the knees and let out a rather throaty cry.

“Does—am I hurting you, or?”

“N-no,” Wander shook his head, and Hater realized that his hat had been knocked off to the floor some time ago. “Not at all, actually, it jus’,” Hater stroked him along the nubs, this time a little firmer, and Wander twisted along his lap and called out again.

Only when Hater’s cock twitched did he realize he was moaning.

“Goodness, Hatey,” Wander let out a nervous giggle and squeezed his thighs together. Hater couldn’t tear his eyes from off him when he did it. It made him wonder hard about Wander’s anatomy, in places a little more personal, and Hater was hoping the star nomad wouldn't be on his lap for too much longer out of fear of his _own_ anatomy. Despite his usual sentiments, he wasn’t in the mood to spook him. “Maybe it’s about time we call it a night? Sylvia’s probably lookin’ for me, anyway, I-I don’t want her worryin’.”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that’s a great idea, you’re cramping my style anyway.” Hater was just short of pushing Wander off of him. He felt impossibly warm under his robes, and he didn’t want to risk Wander making more goo-goo eyes and triggering something further in him. “I have a bunch of stuff to do anyway, _important_ stuff, I, I should have kicked you out hours ago, just look at the time —”

“Didja have at least a lil’ fun, Hatey?” Wander asked, and the skeleton was caught between wanting to choke him to death and kiss him into oblivion. He was giving Hater that stare, which meant he was giving Hater funny feelings again, so it was in the universal conquerors best interest to snarl at him.

“Yes, _CAN YOU GO ALREADY!?_ ”

“Alrighty!” Wander stepped off from him, Hater sighing deeply in relief. Scooping his hat into his hands, Wander turned to Hater, picking furiously at its brim. “I had so much fun Hater, I really hope y’did too!”

Hater swallowed, again taken back by what looked to be a nervous Wander. “Uh, yeah.” He shrugged, trying to feign disinterest. “I mean—yeah, you know, it, it was alright.”

Hater couldn’t believe the next thought that just happened to slip from his mouth. “And if I’m feelin’ it, I dunno—we could do it again sometime?”

He didn’t have to look at the stupid fuzzball to get a sense of his excitement. “Really!?”

“Maybe,” Hater hissed at him, eyes narrowing. “That is if I feel like dealing with _you_.”

“Oh goodness, Hater, I can’t wait!” Before the skeleton could protest, Wander leaned in close, successfully making his heart stop mid beat. With one last, fuzzy kiss on the mouth, Wander purred at him, shooting him a wink.

“I’ll be seein’ y’soon, Hater!”

With a tip of his hat, Wander was on his way back towards the vent, banjo in hand as he strummed along to some stupid tune playing in his head. He was singing, what song Hater wasn’t sure, but he was positive he caught the words “ _Hater_ ,” and “ _Wander_ ,” and “ _sitting in a tree._ ” He didn’t have much time to shout at him in anger about it, because before he knew it, the echo of a banjo was plucking its way through the air vents.

Hater sighed and reverted to his usual glare, hands crossing against his chest, eyes pointing angrily at his feet. He watched the glow of the disco ball crawl against his shoes, distracted by the memories from a few moments ago.

He had kissed Wander. He had kissed Wander, and _liked_ it.

He didn’t even mind the taste of dry leaves and grass in his mouth. Quite the contrary, he was missing it.

“Stupid Wander, can’t stand the guy,” Hater tried to tell himself, but it felt too empty for him to believe it.


	2. Chapter Two: The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater glared down at Peepers, immediately on the defensive, and embarrassed to boot. Peepers was always busy underestimating Wander, and demeaning Hater in the process. On numerous occasions, Peepers had made a point of letting Hater know exactly how he felt in terms of his greatest enemy: if Hater had spent half the time he did “insistently obsessing” over Wander on galactic domination, they’d rule the galaxy ten times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Safe to say this is getting to be +18 at this point. Again, this is un'beta'd, so pointing out any mistakes always helps.
> 
> Don't own the characters, your typical legal jargon goes here. Enjoy!

“Alright men, listen up!”

The sharp sound of metal rapping against a projector’s screen snapped Lord Hater out of his snoozing, making the skeleton jut up violently in his seat. Noticeably disoriented, it took him a few seconds to recognize he was awake and in one of his sparsely decorated conference rooms. With a clear baring on his surroundings, Hater sagged openly into his chair out of exhaustion and relief.

It was commonplace for Hater to sit back and let Commander Peeper’s commandeer meetings; Hater was more of a “big picture type of guy,” after all, dwelling on the flashier, menacing aspects of their galactic domination, while his tinier counterpart usually focused on fine tuning the smaller, critical details—no pun intended.

As Peeper’s drawled on, the tip of his pointer tracing the routes of where the broken shells of planets now laid, Hater allowed himself to nod out, eyes drooping in weariness.

Peepers would eventually catch onto his lack of focus, as he always did, but for now, Hater let the sides of his hood hide his face so he could close his eyes in peace. The more he relaxed, the deeper he slipped into unconsciousness, and the shrill tone of Peeper’s voice became fuzzier and fuzzier.

It was all that stupid Wander’s fault.

No, really, Hater would swear on his title of strongest, coolest, _numero uno_ Supreme Overlord in the galaxy, it was the stupid, fluffy muppet’s fault that he couldn’t catch even a wink of sleep.

It all started after, what Hater’s mind had catalogued inside his ever full and brimming folder of Wander Mishaps, _the incident_ , a memory taped off in proverbial red and sealed tight behind the bars of denial. In a fragrant lack of discipline, in a sad, sorry show of weakness, Hater had let himself be manipulated by the scruffy, little headache; that was the story he would tell himself as he laid in bed at night as a means of self-convincing, staring up at the ceiling, with his chest tight and his arms a little empty.

The cunning hair ball had managed to goad Hater into a good time, into _kissing him_ , as a further means of degrading Hater’s reputation across the galaxy. Hater was sure of it, enough to fixate on it nightly, leaving him with fretful dreams and night sweats.

Restless evenings full of tossing and turning snowballed into a grandeur paranoia the less and less he slept. After all, Wander was the mastermind of, dare Hater say it, the fall of the thriving Lord Hater Empire. Hater was once the most feared villain in the whole galaxy; now, he consistently fell down the backlogs of Galactic Villain Leaderboard because of Wander’s insistent meddling.

It was an incredibly sore subject, made worse by Lord Dominator scouting this side of the nebula for planets to destroy. The less places there were to rule, the more unlikely Hater could expand his nefarious supremacy. It didn’t help she was actually _good_ at taking planets and blowing them to bits and pieces.

Peepers reminded him time and time again that if they didn’t do something to stop Lord Dominator, there would be no more planets to capture or subjects to rule and bully around, which did little to help Hater fall asleep.

It was all that Wander’s fault, he was sure of it. Just another way for the little monster to plant himself in Hater’s head and torment him, using the power of ‘ _wuv_ ’ on top of it. It made Hater sick in what he presumed was anger, his palms sweaty and his heart racing like a freight train.

Then there were the fantasies, so lifelike and vivid, when Wander would haunt Hater’s dreams. Sleep was far and few in between but every night, if only for a few hours, Hater’s imagination went wild behind his eyelids, plaguing him with images of Wander in less than decent and more _compromising_ positions.

Even then, in the conference room, visions of the furry alien plagued Hater’s thoughts. With his stupid, big eyes, his long lashes, and annoying giggle. Hater could see the flush of Wander’s cheeks, illuminated softly by the glow of a disco ball, like he was still stuck in the Smooch room. It was so easy to remember how the fur on Wander’s lips felt like velour against his face, or how he smelt like the fresh, distinct scent of an early morning’s rain—

“Sir?”

Hater snapped awake, jerking in his chair hard enough to nearly send his hood from off his skull, only settling once every eyeball was on him. Hater’s brain moved swiftly, planning out a well thought and calculative answer for his commander.

 “Hmmm _huh_ wha?”

“The plan, sir?” Despite their faces being mere eyeballs, the Watchdog’s could be incredibly expressive, and Hater could tell Peepers was annoyed when his eyelid narrowed. “What do you think of the plan?”

Hater felt suddenly all too awake, eyes snapping open as he looked for assistance from one of his subordinates beside him. All that was offered to him was the squeak of a chair and a muffled cough, silence filling the conference room soon after.

 “I, uh,” Hater thought quickly, with full intentions of a graceful response. “Yeeees.”

 “Yes, _what_?” Peepers’ voice was already strained, fully aware of Hater’s attempts at deception, making the skeleton foul with anger.

“Yes, it sounds,” Hater rotated his hand in the air, gesturing flippantly. “Alright, you caught me, I missed the whole thing, are you happy now?!”

Clearly cranky, Lord Hater crossed his arms and sagged glumly in his seat, far too tired to argue at this point, yet he received little sympathy from his commander.

“Sir,” Peepers was near pleading. “I know you’ve been suffering from a little bout of insomnia recently but do try to keep up, this is no laughing matter!” Peepers looked about the group of soldiers sitting among the table, the corners of his eyelid turning down in disapproval.

Little interest was held by the conference goers; various Watchdogs looked bored, picking at their nails and doodling across their notepads. One had the audacity to click away at his phone from beneath the table’s ledge, Hater spotting the glow of his LED screen from a few feet away. Ever vigilant, Peepers was quick to take notice too, and like the crack of a whip, Peepers voice came out loud and biting, making even Hater pull back into his seat.

“Is _ANYONE ELSE_ taking the COMPLETE and UTTER ANNIHILATION OF THE GALAXY _SERIOUSLY_?!” Peepers asked the collective, but received only an uneasy silence. “Anybody, anybody at all!?”

One Watchdog in the crowd meekly raised his hand till Peeper’s pointed glare fell on him bull's-eye. Instead, sensing the officer’s anger, he was quick to feign stretching in an attempt to look inconspicuous.

Staring incredulously around the room, Peepers faltered slightly. “Does _no one_ _else_ realize that soon enough, there may not even be another planet to conquer? Let alone lose?”

Audibly clearing his throat, Peepers straightened out his pointer and guided it to the screen, a tinge of annoyance clear in his tone. “Well, then. Explaining it a tenth time is sure not to hurt,” he murmured sarcastically under his breath.

“According to my careful calculation and what seems to be a pattern in Lord Dominator’s destruction, she and her bots will soon be migrating from the Tenzlon Quadrant to XU-18b,” Peepers faced the screen, turning his back to the audience, and it took everything within Hater to keep his eyelids open.

“If these calculations are correct, which,” Peepers scoffed. “They should most certainly be, this will give us _ample_ time to set off to the other side of the Attribua Cluster, thus escaping her carnage and maybe grabbing a planet or four along the way. Questions?”

Hater could hear the squeak of Peeper’s shoes as he turned to face the crowd, careful to perk up in an attempt to look engaged.

“Uhhhhh, yeah,” A single Watchdog raised a hand, drawing in the attention of the room. “Since Lord Dominator is looking to destroy the whole galaxy and all, doesn’t that make world conquering a little,” He hesitated, gesturing casually with his pencil. “Mmmmm, pointless?”

With a wide, gaping eye, Peepers’ looked personally offended. “Pointless?! Do you,” He pulled a hand over his eyelid in frustration . “We’re in the business of conquering, _Gabe_ , it’s sort of a thing we do!?”

Gabe had enough semblance to look sorry as Peepers swept by him, the tiny commander whisking past all of his men to stand proudly at Hater’s side.

“I’d like to remind you of the greatness that was,” Peeper was quick to correct himself, “ _IS!_ The Lord Hater Empire!”

“Do you see this man, sitting right here?” Standing straight beside Lord Hater’s chair, Peepers gestured fondly at where his heart lay, looking on to the handful of troops with wistful adoration. “I think you forget who you pledge your allegiance to! You have _him_ to thank for the weight and prestige that comes with carrying the ‘Watchdog’ name! When you walk through towns and cities and the people cower in fright, it’s because _you_ bear the single most feared title for dastardly deeds in the business! You work for _THE_ Lord Hater! The Chief of Calamity, the Baron of Bleak, the—he’s sleeping, isn’t he?”

The screech of a boiling tea kettle accompanied Peeper’s distinct, angry quivering, sounding strained against the boisterous rumble of Hater’s snoring. As he sulked back towards his seat, Peepers let out a weary sigh, taking in a deep, careful breath as a means of subsiding his rage.

“The Galactic Villain Leaderboard has been at a standstill since Lord Dominator came into the picture, planets are ripe for the taking! Think about it!” His eyeball flew open as he flailed wildly at the air. “We seize the few planets we can _while_ we still can, recruit their natives as soldiers under the threat of impending darkness and find a means of destroying Lord Dominator in the process, what isn’t there to get?!"

“We can’t let Lord Dominator continue her havoc, we can’t continue hiding, and we can’t continue to let planets slip from out of our hands. We are _GOING_ to Attribua Cluster, we are _SEIZING_ whatever planets remain there, and there will be NO MORE INSUBORDINATE NAYSAYING, _GABE_!”

Again, Gabe was just short of shriveling under Peeper’s scowl, attempting to look small and modest in a means of avoiding his temper.

“Right, sir?!”

Hater startled in his seat at the inquiry, drool falling to the front of his cloak. “Huh?!”

“Right!” Peeper’s confirmed with a pound to the table. “I have a good feeling about this one, gentleman! So, again, I open the table! Questions?”

“Commander Peepers, sir?” Another Watchdog sitting among the council raised his hand, Peepers calm and collected when answering.

“Ah, yes—Drew, is it?”

“Not to be that guy, but,” Drew pointed over Peepers shoulder. “what about _that_?”

Every eye followed Drew’s lead, falling onto the towering screen in front of them, particularly on the blinking, orange light wandering across the screen towards the Skull-Ship.

A telling hush fell over the table, no one dare speaking up and provoking the frenzy of their commander, or _worse_ , Lord Hater, as the bleep moved closer and closer. Even Gabe looked nervous, drops of sweat dripping from the front of his sclera.

Peepers’ eyelid noticeably twitched at the revelation, hands clenching the edge of the table hard enough for it to crack. There was a moment of tense silence before Peepers slumped into his chair, looking defeated as he glared up at the ceiling.

“Alright, boys, plan aborted, let’s pack up and get to hiding. There is a small out clove in Xenta—”

“ _WAIT_!” Very much awake, Lord Hater stepped up onto the table and proceeded to point at the glowing bleep drifting along the black, backdrop of space.

 “Oh, of course you wake up now, _SIR_!” As a means of truce, Peepers raised his palms flat into the air, trying to negate the situation. “With all due respect, I don’t think _he_ is the best person for our troops to face right now, at the risk of losing morale —”

“Where. Is. He,” Hater’s blood shot eyes, pink with exhaustion and rage, rounded on Peepers, who quickly cowered under the skeleton’s looming shadow, mindful of the sparks emblazing the whole of his forearms.

“Sir,” Peeper’s inquired carefully, noting the deep grooves that were bags beneath Hater’s eyes. He was quickly regretting the idea of sticking a tracking device on the annoying beatnik. “I was merely just _suggesting_ that with the current circumstances that are afflicting the galaxy that we may want to,” Searching for the right term, Peepers momentarily paused.”Avoid seeing —”

“No, you fool!” Hater was practically rabid, voice low and dangerous, as he stalked along the table towards the projector’s screen. “Don’t you see?! It’s NOW OR NEVER that we destroy Wander! For all we know, this is _EXACTLY_ what he wants,”

“He knows we’re in a state of weakness, compliant, easy, starved of affection and a little heartbroken, _begging_ for attention —”

As a group, the Watchdog’s exchanged bewildered glances, Peepers included, struggling to keep up with Lord Hater’s mutterings.

“Sir,” Peepers’ tried but Hater continued to drown him out, feet booming as he marched off the table, pens and papers scattering to the floor.

“It has taken a few, good nights of CAREFUL and METICULOUS planning but I, the most AMAZING in the Galaxy, the EIGHTH WONDER OF THE VILLAINOUS WORLD, YOUR SUPREME LEADER AND BOSS, _LORD HATER_ ,” from out of his robes, Hater pulled out what looked to be a rolled up piece of poster-board, smug through his exhaustion. “Have found a way to destroy Wander.”

Hater could feel Peepers blatant disapproval roll off him in waves, pointedly ignoring his lieutenant’s glower in lieu of gingerly unrolling his reveal. Switching the projector’s settings to overhead, Hater delicately smoothed out a set of blueprints on the illuminated glass, every eye in the room staring heavily upon what looked to be technical drawings of Lord Hater’s greatest enemy.

There, on the screen for all to see, was a series of well orchestrated doodles of how to destroy Wander. In Hater’s noticeable scrawl were various notes jotted along the sides of it, crossed out, underlined, and circled for emphasis, but the centerpiece of the plans were square in the middle of the template, with a depiction of Wander, spread eagle, dead center of the page.

 “I have _finally_ found his greatest weakness,” Hater said with conviction, looking proud, as he uncapped a marker and circled along Wander’s stomach. “Right here on his middle.”

“You see, after a little kiss _uhhhhhh_ ,” Hater looked sideways with suspicions of being heard, thankful for his self-correction. “ _CAREFUL RESEARCH_ , I have discovered that a feature of… whatever the flarp Wander is has six, extra appendages that are well hidden in the depths of his fur,”

“If you notice they’re strategically placed where I would assume his internal organs are—all for the better, easier to kill him that way, note that,” He said to no Watchdog in particular. “and seem to fall in a symmetric lines, like this.”

Hater dotted three x’s in rows of two, equaling a total of six, along Wander’s stomach, before moving his marker over to the sides of the page. Across the margins were assorted ways of “torturing,” Wander and said “appendages”, with methods of fire, dry ice, rusty metal, and other horrible devices. It was worth noting that ' _electrocution?'_ had been striked out numerous times, with a small scribble of  
' _may enjoy?_ ” written messily beside it.

“Thanks to my _brilliant_ deductions,” Hater scoffed at his own genius. “It’s simple.”

“Send out a battalion of men—no, _TWO_! —and subdue the Zbornak. We distract Wander with something he can make a song about or _hug_ , preferably something colorful and snuggly that will keep his hands busy and then we _SEIZE HIM!_ ” Hater curved his fingers into claws, teeth like daggers and eyes reddening with rage as he began to angrily drag his marker across his proposal, stabbing motions included.

“We DRAG him to my torture chamber, MUZZLE him before he can utter out even a single piece of stupid drawl and FINALLY, _ONCE AND FOR ALL_ , shut that little transit screw ball up for good!”

Hater capped his marker, looking proud of his demonstration thus far, as he rounded back towards the edge of the table.

“Questions?” Smirking with triumph, Hater rubbed where would be his nails on the front of his robes.

When Hater looked up at the crowd, he expected a round of applause, nods of agreement, and praise from his men, a reluctant Peepers included. What he found instead made him perplexed, surprised as he blinked back at the puzzled faces of his troops, and he briefly wondered if lack of sleep was making him hallucinate.

The conference room was so quiet, one could hear the sound of a pin drop, and it was quickly making Hater uncomfortable with doubt. Was it that outlandish? Was it stupid? Was the idea _not_ evil enough?

 Pupils tiny and eyes wide, the table of Watchdogs made Hater feel like a deer in headlights as he waited for an answer, which, as the seconds ticked by, he feared would never come. Finally, Hater let his gaze fall to his third in command, the only one of his men who gave him any resemblance of an answer, and it didn’t look good. Peepers eyelid was screwed into a disturbed expression, head reared back and hand raised in an obvious gesture of confusion.

Slowly but surely, a single Watchdog raised his cell phone up from under the table and took a picture, the snap of the camera breaking Peepers out from his reverie.

“Everyone out,” Peppers pointed at the door. “ _NOW_!”

In the blink of an eye and a whirlwind of papers, the Watchdog’s exited like a flash of black and red, nearly tearing Lord Hater’s cloak off along with them. That left Hater alone with a very irate Peepers, who slammed the door shut and hissed.

“What,” Peepers pointed at the screen in outrage. “in Grop’s name, is _this_!?”

Hater glared down at Peepers, immediately on the defensive, and embarrassed to boot. Peepers was always busy underestimating Wander, and demeaning Hater in the process. On numerous occasions, Peepers had made a point of letting Hater know exactly how he felt in terms of his greatest enemy: if Hater had spent half the time he did “insistently obsessing” over Wander on galactic domination, they’d rule the galaxy ten times over.

“Only a sure fire way of apprehending Wander once and for all! Which, looks to be _far_ too advanced and wicked for you to comprehend.” Hater snarled, electricity flaring along his fingers. “Or maybe you’re just jealous, hm?! Jealous that _MY_ plan is a sure-fire, fail-safe, foolproof way of capturing him! Is it that I THOUGHT OF IT FIRST, huh!? _HUH_!?”

“LORD HATER!” Peepers tried. “Sir! I, I just don’t think you realize—”

Paranoia sauntered over Hater like a stormy cloud as he scooped Peepers up by the front of his uniform. “You don’t think I can do it, do you!?”

“N-no! Not at all, Lord Hater, if _anyone_ can do it, it’s, it’s you!” Peepers hesitated. “But…”

“ _BUT_!?”

“It’s just,” Peepers laughed a little and looked nervously about, which did nothing to help Hater’s temper. “Look—look at what you’re suggesting here!”

“What I am “suggesting” here, Peepers,” Hater dropped his commander in a messy heap on the floor, arms crossing behind his back. As he looked over at the projector, he realized even a poor drawing of Wander made his stomach tie up in knots, and he loathed it. “Is a final solution to my mortal enemy, my greatest adversary, and the bane of my existence,” Hater hissed.

“Look, Peepers, if you’re going to pull that whole, ‘ _Sir-you’re-_ totally _-obsessing-over-Wander_ ’ thing again, I won't hear it!” Hater whined, childishly stomping his foot on the ground. “Can you listen to me for once?! I know this is going to work!”

“You _know_ this will work?” From his place on the floor, Peepers spoke past his askew hat. “How in Grop's name do you know that?”

The implication in his commander’s voice made Hater panic, eyes darting across the empty room for an excuse that would never come.

“Just,” Hater flailed his arms desperately, willing Peepers to listen. “TRUST ME, I _KNOW_ IT WILL WORK, OKAY?!”

“Sir,” Now standing with his hat square on his head, Peepers studied his boss for a whole minute before speaking, arms folding against his chest. “Do you even _know_ what those ‘extra appendages’ are?”

Hater stumbled, raising a tentative finger to his mouth before pointing it mid-air. “...His weak-points?”

Hater felt Peepers boring incredulously into him, and it took every inch of the little clout Lord Hater had not to shrink under it. It wasn’t unusual for Peepers to reprimand him, even that Lord Hater understood, but there was something unsettling in the way Peepers looked at him now; like he was judging him, like he was waiting for some type of admission.

It was like he knew what happened in the Smooch Room those few days ago.

“Those,” Peepers sighed, and Hater could tell with the way he paused and rubbed a nervous hand over his helmet, he wasn’t looking forward to continuing. “Lord Hater, sir, those are his nipples.”

“His who’s-it-what’s-it?” Hater frowned down at Peepers, not expecting that, of all answers.

“His,” Peepers continued to look uncomfortable, eye darting about the room in fear of someone listening. “ _His nipples_!”

Hater glared down in disbelief at Peepers, unsure if he was serious or not, but when his commander’s gaze didn’t grow any less troubled, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“But,” Hater tried, desperately. He thought back to his Watchdogs, fully understanding they had a pair of nipples themselves, but that was it—a _pair_. “There are six!”

“Yes!” Peepers hands clenched into tiny fists of outrage. “We’ve seen aliens with two heads, eight legs, five noses, three tails—we’ve seen a singing banana for Grop’s sakes, sir—is it that far fetched that Wander, a traveling-circus-freak, could have _SIX NIPPLES_?!”

Hater shrunk under Peepers as he leapt up from the floor, propelled by his screaming, and was suddenly incredibly unsure of himself. Perhaps, considering the means of how he discovered such a weakness, he hadn’t thought this whole villainous plot through.

Wander twisting and turning in his lap, biting his lip and arching his back, _moaning_ in his arms: it all made sense now, and it also made Hater’s robes feel a little too warm. Hater willed the heated memory from out of his skull, feeling the familiar sweats and jitters that thinking about Wander and their kiss had produced since.

Momentarily distracted, Hater realized Peepers had taken it upon himself to study Hater’s poorly doodled blueprints, scrutinizing the sloppy text as well as the poorly scribbled drawings.

Peepers looked back at him, and Hater didn’t know what would have been worse: if he had been as angry as expected, or as he was now, disturbed and in a state of disbelief. “In what way are ‘tummy rubs,’ and ‘tickle teasing,’ torture?”

“I, uh,” Hater could have sworn in the dead, middle of the night, in between the fifteen minutes of sleep he had managed, he had written “skin flaying” and “full-on-flagellation.”

“Sir,” After rolling up Hater’s blueprints and tucking them securely in his pocket, Peepers stood before his leader, palms up and eyelid squeezed into something like concern. “Is there _anything_ you want to tell me?”

Hater stared down at his Commander—really, the closest parallel to a friend that Hater ever had—with a brief moment of clarity. If he could tell _anyone_ , he could tell Peepers, right? It’s not like he, his most trusted confident, would tell anyone. And if Wander had managed to “ _teach_ ” him anything in his infuriating attempts to “ _help Hater discover himself,_ ” it was “ _depending_ ” on “ _twue friends_ ,” and who was a truer friend to Hater than Peepers?

“You know what,” Peepers slashed at the air with both arms with a firm shake of his head. “Nevermind! I don’t want to know,” he took Hater by the robe and pulled him towards the exit. “Not until tomorrow, at least.”

“But,” Hater tried, but Peepers would hear none of it, dragging him down one of the Skull-Ship’s many long, dark hallways.

“But _nothing_ , sir, have you looked in the mirror, lately?” Peepers glanced over his shoulder as he continued to drag Hater by the hem of his cloak. “No offense sir but, quite frankly, you look like you’ve been hit by a semi-tractor-trailer-ship. You’re falling asleep more than usual during meetings, coming up with delusional plans,”

“Lord, Hater, sir,” Peepers only stopped once they were in front of the many doors leading to Hater’s quarters. “At the risk of sounding cliche, your flarping bags _have flarping bags_.”

Hater took this as an opportunity to stop and think: for the love of Grop, he almost just admitted to Peepers he had gone ahead and _kissed_ Wander.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Good, sir, _good_!” Peepers assured him. “Just lay down, relax, and don’t worry about a thing! We’ll just pretend this,” he waved at the air. “Never happened.”

Haters glared at him and wanted to argue otherwise, but his eyes were burning from the weight of his fatigue. His bones felt weary— _literally —_and the soft, silk sheets of his bed were suddenly beckoning him, despite causing him so much grief.

“Fine,” Hater growled. “See to it that this little mishap—”

“Is forgotten,” Peepers saluted, giving a nod of reassurance.

With one last frown over his shoulder, Hater relieved himself to his bedroom, much to Peepers relief. Only once he could hear every door shut behind Lord Hater did Peepers let his shoulders sag, and his true confusion show.

“What in the name of—”

“ _Sir_!” the panicked, panting of a Watchdog sounded from behind him, making the commander turn with a frown.

 “Now really isn’t the time, _Gabe —_”

 “So, uh,” Gabe epitomized fear, sweat pouring out from his helmet in tiny rivers, knees shaking hard enough to be heard. “So, about that whole ‘ _capturing-Wander-thing_ ,'”

“If you are reminding me of Lord Hater’s feverish, diluted pitch, that should have in no way been taken seriously,” Peepers swore he felt his stomach drop onto the floor, voice audibly strained in fury. “ _Yes._ ”

“Well,” Gabe gulped loudly, hands tying ruefully behind his back. “We may have found him. _Annnnnd_ we may have not had to force him onto the ship. As in, uh—he kind of came onto the ship on his own terms. With the zbornak. And is totally running a muck right now.”

Peepers pupil shrunk; today was only getting worse.

“Oh, _Grop_ , no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I'll keep this short, because who wants to read author's notes:
> 
> This will be somewhere between 4-5 chapters.
> 
> Wander will be in the next chapter (sorry for the absence!), and Sylvia will be popping up at some point in the story, too.
> 
> And well—again, this is just some self-indulgent feel good fic'n. This will be a story about Hater learning a little about himself, and well, Wander learning a little about himself, too. Some things may be slightly altered in terms of canon story line to fit the fic but I will do my best.
> 
> EDIT: This [post](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/154056202625/i-hope-this-hasnt-been-asked-before-but-what) will hopefully clarify the fic's timeline a little better!
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying thus far! I'll try to get the next chapter out ASAP, but well, let's say there will be a lot more going on in that one. As always, feel free to stop by my blog and say hi. Thanks again!


	3. Chapter Three: The First Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate was cruel to Hater, so naturally Wander made it onto Skull-Ship without a single hair on his head harmed, because of course, karma always worked in the moronic mop-of-an-alien’s favor. Leaving Lord Hater alone would be too easy, and completely against the ‘ _friendliest-face-in-the-galaxy’s!_ ’ agenda, all par for the course when it came down to the bare basics of the moronic headcase that was Wander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I'm going to take this space to thank these lovely artists for drawing fanart for the fic! There is no greater honor for a writer than someone taking the time to draw a piece for their work, so I would just like to again thank all of you for taking the time to do it, it honestly means the world to me.
> 
> ∙[This](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/147417475485/fandumpafterhours-so-if-anyone-has-read-the) picture, by [thefandump](http://thefandump.tumblr.com/) literally made me SQUEAL, okay?! It's absolutely gorgeous, thank you so much!  
> ∙[This](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/147425981505/ripplingmoonlight-doodled-some-scenes-from-this#notes) picture, by [ripplingmoonlight](http://ripplingmoonlight.tumblr.com/) has the cutest, saddest shyest Wander and I ALSO SQUEALED, thank you very much!  
> ∙[This](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/147432363155/paucityart-absolute-trashjpg-for-spacecrunched#notes) picture, by a personal friend of mine, [paucityart](http://paucityart.tumblr.com/) honestly moved me because it has Gabe who is saying everything that everyone reading this fic is thinking, so thank God for it, which like the others, left me squealing.
> 
> I'd like to give a very special thanks to [aloneindarknes7](http://aloneindarknes7.tumblr.com/) for reading and beta'ing my fic. Along with helping me with the grammar and spelling mistakes I'm always so guilty of, she was delightful the whole process with really sweet, encouraging comments. Also, she puts up with my gross headcanons and yelling when we go back and forth, haha, which I eternally thankful for. Look, if you haven't read the [Start on the Right Path](https://archiveofourown.org/series/463249) series yet, you're only cheating yourself, check it out!
> 
> Finally, and most importantly, I'd like to thank everyone who has been keeping up with this fic. You are the true motivation for me to write, there is nothing that puts smile on my face like reading a comment, seeing a kudo, seeing another hit, even. Thanks to everyone on tumblr, reblogging my fanfiction, for liking it, it makes my little, black heart swell three times its size. Thanks for putting up with my shitty reblogs and shitty tags. This is honest to God the sweetest fandom I have ever had the pleasure of being in. Thank you, thank you! 
> 
> Alright, enough with this nonsense, I usually hate crowding my fics with author notes but it had to be said.
> 
> Truly entering NSFW territory, NC-17, +18, yada yada yada, you know what you're getting into at this point into the fic. Don't own any characters, the usual typical, legal jargon.
> 
> Enjoy. (;

Hater was near collapsing by the time he reached his bedroom, but still careful enough to avoid the usual mess strewn about his floor. He was just short of trapping Captain Tim beneath his weight when he fell face down to the mattress, ignoring his pet’s shrieking when he skittered off the bed. Hater was far too tired to chase after the spider, opting to smother his face into the soft sham of his pillow instead.

He raised a quaking fist with the consideration of pummeling into his mattress, but with Hater’s skeleton weak and his head too heavy to lift, he found himself more sleepy than angry, letting his hand fall back onto the blankets with a weakened ‘plop.’

Despite his recent emotional predicament, Hater was too tired to fuss over Wander or the unwarranted embarrassment that played out in today’s blunder of a meeting. Hater only had to close his eyes before he found himself drifting off into the first easy sleep he had encountered in what felt like days.

The darkness that came with a deep sense of sleep sauntered over Hater, making time soar by despite the ship standing still. Before he knew it, his imagination was getting the best of his anxieties again, and Lord Hater was dreaming. With the familiar fuzz of fur and the distinct smell of pine needles, it was none other than Wander who was taking up all of Hater’s five senses, gliding along the skeleton’s subconscious like a specter.

It was a very strange concept, making out with Wander in his dreams. At times, with the clash of blacks, reds, oranges and greens filling his vision, Hater didn’t know where the little alien started and he himself began, feeling reduced to just a tangle of greedy hands and hungry mouths. He could feel Wander’s fur smother what felt like all of him, slipping past the crease of his fingers, and out from between the nooks and crannies of his bones.

Dreams like these had frightened Hater most of the time, the surreal mash of colors and the overwhelming push and pull of who was who and what was what. Hater liked to play the oblivious card from time to time, but even he could realize that somewhere in the depths of his unconsciousness, a voice was screaming out to him, desperate to be listened to.

Wander solidified into something tangible, crawling into Hater’s lap with wanton eyes and quivering thighs. Hater felt his lips on every inch of him, soft, feathery and warm, even with Wander sitting straight in plain sight.  
  
“ _I know I tend to get a’head of myself around you,_ ” Curiosity got the best of him and he reached for Wander, threading his hand along the front of him, down a torso that stretched for miles. Wander sprouted dozens of nubs, swollen and prominent, and he near spasmed when Hater reached between his legs, melting into a soup on the skeleton’s lap, spilling over the ledges of Hater’s boney knees. “ _It’s only ‘cause I like you, Hater._ ”

Wander’s words skipped like a record in his head, becoming faint and distorted with every repeat, and Hater reached desperately for the puddle that was once his nemesis, watching him fall through his fingers like sand.

Hater’s helplessness was all too real, and he felt crushed by the heft of his dread the softer Wander’s voice grew, barely recognizing the floor when it began to give way and crumble. Whatever plane of existence they were inhabiting began to fade into dust before his eyes, gravity pulling chunks of earth apart from the inside out, and all Hater could do was watch the essence of Wander slip loose between the cracks.

 Hater jolted awake, feeling briefly suffocated when the memories of his nightmare collided dead center in his head all at once. After a brief struggle, his mind racing and his arms flailing, Hater remembered to breathe, turning onto his back to gasp up at the ceiling.

Pulling his eyelids open made him realize they were crusted over along with his nose, which was running against the surface of his pillow. He wiped at his face, quickly discovering that his brow was sopping with sweat.

‘ _It was all fake,_ ’ he assured himself, thoughts jarring in his brain, which took it’s sweet time catching up with pace of reality. A few, deep breaths brought Hater back onto the Skull-Ship, and he let out a sigh of relief as he grew lax within his sheets again. ‘ _It was all a flarpin’ dream._ ’

Hater figured after an experience like that, he could do with a good, long, and despite the fictional hook up in his head turning into a complete, utter surrealist nightmare, _cold_ shower, not so unusual since his succumbing to the kiss.

Forced to adjust his cloak with a reluctant grimace, Hater moved to push himself off the bed, feeling sick with the shame of his morning wood, until a cheerful murmuring reached his antennas.

It didn’t take long for Hater to recognize the culprit, very familiar with the distinct hum of a certain Wandering nutjob. The sound was heavy in his ears, like the aggravating buzz of a fly, and Hater audibly gnashed his teeth in outrage.

Fate was cruel to Hater, so naturally Wander made it onto Skull-Ship without a single hair on his head harmed, because _of course_ , karma always worked in the moronic mop-of-an-alien’s favor. Leaving Lord Hater alone would be _too_ easy, and completely against the ‘ _friendliest-face-in-the-galaxy’s!_ ’ agenda, all par for the course when it came down to the bare basics of the moronic headcase that was Wander. The Zbornak and he liked to use his dungeons as a place to crash, after all, further salt in Hater’s wounds with every attempt to capture them.

Shamelessly, as if he _wasn’t_ breaking and entering Hater’s Skull-Ship, Wander slipped out of the confines of his closet, feather duster in hand, hips bopping along to the beat of his own voice. Hater reluctantly admitted to himself that he was briefly entranced with the liquid flow of Wander’s limbs as he moved about, carefully sweeping at a spiked mace propped up against his wall, completely unaware that Hater was privy to his dancing.

Hater decided not to alert Wander to his waking just yet, instead surveying what had been done with the place. Almost instantly, he was infuriated with the state of his chambers.

His bedroom was now _clean_ —the walls dusted, the stains removed, the furniture sheen and glossy.

Wander of course took upon himself the liberty of cleaning, which didn’t sit well with Hater one bit. It was, after all, _his_ bedroom, _his_ stuff, and most of all, _his_ mess, so if anyone had a say of where his belongings went, it was Hater, and Hater alone.

Besides, every item, whether tossed haphazardly over a lamp or unwashed for weeks, had a particular place in Hater’s grand scheme: there was a reason the bottles of _Thunder Blazz_ ** _®_**  sat in a pile in the far right corner under his bed. The three cartons of cheesy-nachos once sitting on his nightstand? He was _fermenting_ them for flavor, he was intending to eat them. Finally, every strewn about sock and piece of underwear that had their designated coordinates were now missing, setting off the overall ambience he was trying to instill.

Hater hated change, so of course, he detested the new state of his room. Picture frames were adjusted, robes were folded, and the carpet vacuumed. It just—well, it just didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel like Hater, and it plain didn’t sit right with him.

Then there was just Wander, a colorful eyesore in his sea of black and dreary. Continuing to obliviously meander along the further reaches of his quarters, he mindfully dusted a life-size statue of Lord Hater mid flexing his arms and skeletal pectorals.

The more Hater’s blood boiled about in his bones, the less it settled in more _personal areas_ , freeing him of his spot on the bed. Hater kicked his blankets off the mattress, a clear sign of distress over a neat room, before toeing one foot to the floor.

And that’s when Wander was on him.

With meek eyes and the awareness akin to a startled animal, Wander turned to Hater, feather duster falling forgotten on the ground. In mere seconds, his demeanor changed, the small hints of a smile turning into a fond and friendly beam.

Tearing down the whole length of his bedroom, Wander charged at Hater in a trail of dust, moving fast enough to send his high-pitch shriek of enthusiasm straight through the sound barrier.

Hater shielded his face at what he figured was an impending collision, but when it never came, he dropped his arms and blinked in surprise.

There was Wander—an overtly excited Wander—but one that kept his hands to himself as he bounced foot to foot and rubbed knee to knee, hands clenched at his sides in excitement. At the sound of his annoying whimpers, Hater was quick to glare downwards at the alien, but against all odds, he found his expression softening.

It dawned on Hater that it had been a very long time since they last met. The kiss, which had been tormenting him since, had suddenly felt like an eons-ago.

“H-Hater,” Wander’s voice was tight with restraint as he struggled not to reach out and grab him. “ _Please_?”

Hater narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, taking in Wander’s disheveled appearance. Alas, perhaps Hater didn’t _physically_ get to torture the Wanderer today as previously planned, but at the very least, he could get sweet satisfaction from his current mental anguish the longer he let him stew.

Drenched in sweat, eyes squinting and trembling from inch to inch, Wander was using the little reserves of self-restraint he had to not jump up and hug Hater.

Perhaps out of some type of sweet, cosmic revenge for his recently, troubled evenings, Hater was given the exclusive chance of seeing the nomad suffer. Wander visibly gulped waiting for Hater’s approval, white-knuckling against his desires to touch, hair already falling out in clumps from the stress. Hater told himself he in no way felt bad for Wander as he whinnied desperately up at him with glossy eyes.

Denial helped convince him that it was only the sheer amount of shedding Wander was getting all over his floor that made him finally give in. Sighing angrily, Hater gave the go-ahead in the form of uncrossing his arms and going slack in his seat, already regretting his decision. Wander leapt straight for Hater, a complete mess of hysterical thrashing and squealing.

“ _Hatey_!” Wander’s arms tightened around his neck, paying no mind to Hater’s grimace as he snuggled himself in the skeleton’s lap, pawing at the front of his robes. “It feels like it’s been forever!

“I have so, so, _so_ much t’tell you, Hater, I dunno even where t’begin! I know, I know, you’re probal’y thinkin’ with the whole Galaxy jus’ short of goin’ missin’ and all, we wouldn’ find all too much, nothin’ fun at the very least but y’know Sylvia and me, we always make do! Had a tad bit of’a hold up with me feelin’ under the weather but m’ol’ pal Syl made sure I was jus’ fine! We got spooked once or twice in a dark creepy forest—wasn’ really my cup of tea—helped a fella here, made a friend or two there, _Oh_! We also found Curreleon-23—it was pretty cool— _literally_! No, really, it was made completely a’ice, was really a sight t’see, up until—y’know, up until Dominator blew it up, but we _also_ got’a good look at this lil ol’ place called Doosledorf until, well, before she blew that up too, but, _BUT_!” Speaking a mile a minute, Wander finally remembered to breathe.  
  
“Sylvia’s been on a bit of this kick t’try and find somethin’ to stop Dominator, so we’ve been doin’ that too. I dunno though, if y’ask me, I think she needs someone t’talk to, but that’s jus’  _my_ two cents, y’know?”

Hater deadpanned at Wander, eyes scrunched in displeasure, showing zero interest in offering an answer of his own.

“Goodness gracious, listen t’me, bein’ such’a chatty cathy!” Wander put a modest hand to his mouth before waving it at the air, eyes glistening as he smiled bashfully up at Hater. “‘M sorry for bein’ rude, Hatey, that’s enough about me! Whatcha been up to?!”

Hater frowned down at the fuzzball curled up in his lap, Wander’s long legs folded under him as he grasped tightly at the front of Hater’s robes. Hater was drawing a blank; most of his time had been spent, after all, planning out Wander’s demise. Really, it wasn’t too different from what Hater usually occupied his free time with, when he wasn’t busy conquering planets, playing video games, or just plain being amazing, yet Hater couldn’t find words of discontent to say without respite.

The longer he sat and tried to speak, the worse his stomach hurt, and the more he began to sweat. At first, he pinned it on his usual hatred for Wander—the very thought of Wander’s hugs used to make him gag, after all, though never once before did he hesitate in confirming that he was indeed planning on destroying his hyperactive nemesis.

Really, since the kiss, Hater hadn’t thought about much else _but_ Wander, enough to deprive him of sleep. Soon enough Hater was thinking about his most recent “plans” to dispose of him, which quickly led to him thinking of Wander’s nipples, then their kiss, the intensity of Wander’s lips once Hater got the hang of how his tongue moved, and the way he purred so hard that the whole roof of his mouth shook.

He felt frozen the more vivid the memories became, and it was made worse when he met Wander’s stare, his smile inviting and warm as he awaited Hater’s response. The longer they locked eyes, the more Hater’s guts did somersaults in his throat.

“I, uh,” Hater was faltering, and he had trouble understanding why. “Nothing?”

“Say, doesn’t that sound swell! Sometimes it’s nice jus’ kickin’ back and takin’ it easy!” Considering the mess that was his week, Hater would have laughed if he wasn’t so strangely flustered.

“I hope y’don’t mind me interruptin’ and stoppin’ in!” Wander looked down at his knees as he timidly rubbed them together. “Sylvia and I were close and I figured, ‘ _hey_ , _why not stop and say hello to all m’pals up on the Skull-Ship!_ ’ Since, it’s been so long, and all.”

Hater finally found enough of a voice to muster up a response, but it came out a lot less menacing than he intended. “O-of course I mind, I, I _always_ mind!”

“I know, I _know_ , y’not too fond of me bargin’ in from time t’time,” Wander carefully smoothed some of the wrinkles from out of Hater’s cloak.

“You _think_!?” At the understatement of a lifetime, Hater could feel a fresh wave of unadulterated fury fester at temples of his skull.

“But,” The familiar licks of anger were fading from the inside of Hater and replaced with something a little less familiar when Wander peered up at him, eyes wide and sweet, big enough to nearly engulf Hater with their weight.

Hater wheezed as Wander nuzzled close against the underside of his jaw, hearing a soft rumble escape from out of the nomad’s throat. “I jus’ miss you, is all.”

Wander pulled away to smile at Hater, practically chirping with joy. “Didja miss me too!?”

“Uhhhhhh, um,” Tongue tied, it was the best that Hater could manage as his eyes struggled to meet Wander’s face. Looking everywhere but Wander, Hater ignored the view of the alien staring eagerly up at him from his peripheral vision.

It should have been easy to tell Wander he didn’t share his sentiments: that no, he didn’t miss the little nuisance, not his dopey face, annoying antics, or his atrocious accent. No, Hater assured himself as he sat there feeling unbearably antsy, there was _no way_ he could miss him. He spent nights tossing and turning at the very thought of them kissing, after all.

Thoughts of the kiss were making him even more uneasy when he realized Wander was in his lap much like that fateful evening, face mere inches away from his own, hands tied up in his cloak. Then he remembered _feelings_ of intimacy, a stirring in his loins that kissing Wander induced that plagued Hater since, only making his blundering worse.

The ‘ _ding!_ ’ of an oven from across the other side of the Skull-Ship went off and Wander’s interest veered off Hater. On the edge of panic, Hater was, for lack of a better term, saved by the bell.

“Oh darn it, I almost forgot about the cookies!” Wander huffed under his breath, scrambling off Hater as he rushed out the door. Briefly running backwards, Wander smiled, waving quickly at the air. “‘Scuse me a second, Hater, hold that thought!”

Wander was gone, running about the place like he usually did, and Hater felt his leg twitch with muscle memory, the temptation to take off after Wander still strong. After all, this should have been the part where Hater would chase after him with a roar full of threats of destruction, with the ever infuriating Wander laughing and running off like it was one big game, always just out of Hater’s reach.

Hater had him right where he wanted him, mere moments ago: in his arms and by Wander’s standards, placid, and yet Hater couldn’t bring himself to hurt him. He could barely look at him thanks to his petulant nerves, for that matter.

Hater put his face in his hands, the weight of the whole situation heavy on his spine. The greatest villain in all of the galaxy did not “kiss” their greatest enemy—it just didn’t work that way. He was growing emotional, eyes getting wet from the turmoil of it all, which he was all too apt to do when he was upset, but he was momentarily distracted by the smell of something sweet.

The scent of whatever Wander had made—well, had _baked_ , considering his exclamation from earlier—hit Hater from behind his gloves, potent enough for him to feel the residual heat from the oven saunter along his face. Pulling his hands from off his eyes, Hater blinked down at a tray of heart-shaped cookies, which were pushed just close enough for him to see little else.

“Hatey,” Wander must have sensed Hater’s grief as he lowered the plate, face falling in concern. “Is everythin’ alright?”

Hater felt his stomach do flip flops as he stared down at Wander, who positioned himself right before Hater’s knees at the edge of the mattress. He was growing frustrated with himself, and Hater’s feelings were steadily turning into something he could more easily identify with in front of the nomad: anger. Running with it, Hater glared and greedily took a handful of cookies, channeling his change of mood into something easier to deal with.

“I’M _FINE_ , CAN YOU STOP SMOTHERING ME!?” Wander’s hat nearly flew off from the momentum of his yelling, but for the most part he looked unfazed, sitting himself beside Hater with a jovial shrug.

“Okie dokie, jus’ makin’ sure!” Wander carefully placed the tray of cookies on Hater’s nightstand as he leaned in close, still mindful of his personal space. With his knees drawn together and his hands knotted beneath his chin, Wander smiled up at Hater. “I hope y’don’t mind I did a little boppin’ around the kitchen, s’not everyday I get t’bake!”

Hater looked down at the pile of desserts, having to ward off another bout of nerves at their contours and color; they were hearts, no doubt, and Hater frowned warily over at Wander, practically able to see the same shape in the alien’s big, doey eyes.

After a suspicious sniff, Hater took a nibble of it, and was instantly hit with the taste of almond melting in his mouth. It was delicious, naturally, not that Hater would admit it.

“Oh, whatcha think!? Be honest!” The bed just barely shook from Wander’s weight as he wiggled from side to side in excitement. “S’m’special vegan recipe!” Hater, oblivious to what ‘ _vegan_ ’ even meant, was fast to wave it off.

“Yeah, vegan, _whatever_ , they’re _okay_ ,” Hater shoved a whole cookie into his mouth, a few crumbs hitting Wander in the face, who didn’t even flinch. “Not _nearly_ good enough to excuse you from being on _my_ ship, _what_ are you doing here and _where_ is Peepers!?”

Not forgetting about the tidy state of his room, Hater was happy to harp on something else, anything to feel a little more normal around the wandering weirdo.

“Oh, Mr. Peepers? He didn’ seem too happy t’see us when we got here, even after I _swore_ not t’wake y’up, but Sylvia promised me she would talk t’him, and well, I think the two of ‘em are gettin’ along and hangin’ out jus’ fine!”

Somewhere in the bowels of the ship, in one of his many prison cells, Hater swore he could hear his commander yelling on the deaf ears of a laughing Zbornak.

“By the way, speakin’ of _C. Peeps_! Pretty sure the last time we crossed ways, he left this lil’ guy with me,” Slipping his hat from off his head, Wander pulled from it a small, noisy and blinking mechanism, which Hater quickly recognized as a tracking device. “Looks like it might be somethin’ important, I wouldn’t want him t’be worryin’, y’mind givin’ it back t’him?”

Hater’s face, impassive with a quiet type of rage, took the small device in his hand only to crush it flat in his palm.

“Don’t change the subject!” Hater glared and bit into another cookie, this time careful not to pelt Wander in the face with any residuals, swallowing before speaking. “You still haven’t explained _why_ you’re here, on MY SHIP, _touching_ MY THINGS!”

“I was lookin’ t’see you, Hater! Like I told you,” With a flushed face, Wander batted his eyelashes at him, successfully making the skeleton’s stomach twist in knots. “I missed you! And with you asleep and everythin’, I figured I’d keep m’self busy and tidy the place up a bit!”

“Really now? You were just _oh so_ compelled to ‘ _help me_ ,’ by cleaning up, weren’t you?” Hater asked, feigning sweetness, mocking Wander with an eyelash bat of his own.

 “Yep!” Hater snorted at Wander’s cheerful nod.

“And what _exactly_ did you take upon yourself to clean?” Hater challenged, keeping in mind he had a fully functional, paid janitorial staff.

“Well,” Wander was chipper as ever, stealing a cookie for himself to nibble on. “After I straightened y’room, catalogued y’CD collection, alphabetized y’video games, rearranged y’closet, rewired, refretted, _and_ tuned y’guitars,” Wander collected his breath in between bites.

“I waxed the floors, restocked the kitchen’s, organized y’weapons of mass torture—torture room included—water and pruned y’Giant Venus Fly Trap, dusted the ceilin’s, reframed the art on the walls, fed, walked _and_ groomed Captain Tim,”

‘ _Ah_ ,’ Hater thought: that’s why he smelt burning hair and hot pools of acid.

Wander offered Hater another cookie, shoulders drawn up in excitement. “Then I did some bakin’! Jus’ a few things, no biggie!”

With a callous frown, Hater plucked the offered cookie from Wander’s hand, shaking with passive irritation as it crumbled inside his fist.

 “Great, excellent, _GRAND_!” Hater would demand Peepers to issue a line of firings for the cleaning crew more sooner than later.

“Yeah, it was fun! Never minded me some impromptu cleanin’!” Wander practically squeaked with joy, eyes squinting from the stretch of his smile. “And, shucks, I figured, what with you bein’ so nice and lettin’ Sylvia and me sleep here once in a blue, it was the least I could do!”

“Yep,” Hater didn’t have it in him to be angry, but he at the very least sounded sarcastic. “The least you could do, _sure_ , so, are you going to get lost already or…?”

Hater refused to look at Wander, because he didn’t know what he expected to see. There was a small, annoying voice that tried to convince him it was because he wouldn’t like the answer. The want for Wander to leave was currently at odds with the vocal part of Hater that wanted the Wanderer to stay, both sides caught dead heat in a battle of tug-of-war.

“You,” It took everything within Hater not to cringe at Wander’s sombre tone of voice. “Y’really want me t’go, Hater?”

Hater pulled at one of his antennas in frustration, still refusing to look in the other’s direction. Again, conflicting feelings of wanting Wander to stay were making being mean difficult, so Hater tried a more routine direction: belligerency and accusation.

“Well,” Hater challenged, turning to Wander with a snarl, pointing firmly. “Why do  _you_ wanna stay so bad, hm?! To, to distract me from conquering planets?! To _convert_ me into ‘ _good’_?!” Hater quoted wildly at the air, the paranoia from the past previous days back full swing, manifesting itself into something darker.

 “Admit it,” Hater took the nomad by the shoulders to shake him, making Wander’s hat sit awry on his head. “Admit it already, this is all part of your DASTARDLY PLAN to TURN ME INTO A GOOD GUY and, and,”

“Hatey,” Wander tried, putting a hand on Hater’s to gently squeeze, looking sympathetic through the shaking.

“Don’t you ‘ _HATEY_ ,’ me!” Hater was quick to spit back, pulling away to curl up under his covers as a means of looking small. Digging his face into the safe, dark confines of his pillow, Hater’s voice muffled when he finally admitted, “You’ve been in my head for days and _IT’S DRIVING ME CRAZY_!”

Hater wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Wander—some type of theatrical, overzealous response, if anything—but it wasn’t the long, heavy pause that came next. Timidly, Hater peaked out from over his pillow, surprised to find Wander’s eyebrows pulled together in thought, mouth slipping downwards in confusion.

“Hater,” Wander tried a little more carefully this time. “If y’want me t’go, I’ll go. I don’t wanna make y’uncomfortable!” Wander raised his shoulders in a shrug. “But, this ain’t some trick from me t’make y’some type of ‘ _good guy_ ,’ if that’s what y’thinkin’!”

Hater cautiously lifted his head from his pillow, eyes narrowed in mistrust. “I don’t believe you.”

Slowly, Wander’s eyebrows lowered into an expression that made him look sad. “I can’t make y’believe me, Hater, I can only tell y’how I feel, and well,”

“I don’t think y’need me to make y’a good guy!”

Sitting up, Hater blinked at Wander before frowning in disbelief, opening his mouth to interject.

“No, really!” Wander swore, pulling himself closer to Hater, placing a cautious hand on his side. When he received no backlash, Wander slipped himself under the edge of Hater’s sheets, till he was side by side with the Overlord from beneath the blanket.

“Hatey,” Wander whispered, hesitating. “Do y’know why I like you?”

Hater was fearing the worst, pulling the blankets tighter across his head. “Because you enjoy torturing me with your insufferable presence?” He whispered back.

“No, silly!” Wander giggled, and when Hater met Wander’s tender eyes, his palms began to sweat. “It’s, cause, well,”

Wander drew the blankets closer, till they squashed his hat tight to the top of his head.

“Other than ‘cause y’cute,” he was quick to start. “It’s ‘cause, despite all the leagues a’space I’ve traveled over the years,” Wander’s cheeks colored in shyness as he frayed at the edges of Hater’s blanket. “I never quite met someone like you.

“And, and I’ve met me a whole lotta different folks across the galaxy, believe me!” Wander’s eyes went wide as he finally managed to look Hater in the eye. “Lots’a interestin’, great folks! From all walks a’life, from different planets and fun cultures. I’ve met a few fella’s that weren’t all so nice, too! People that liked t’play a lot meaner than you, Hater, and even they have a real special place in m’heart but still, no one has made me feel like you do.

“Now, I know y’ain’t gonna wanna hear me say it,” Wander looked determined, sitting up and letting the blanket tumble forgotten to his shoulders. “And from the looks of it, y’ain’t gonna believe me neither! But Hater,”

Wander turned to Hater, expression vulnerable but doting, making Hater’s insides physically tense up.

“I don’t wanna make y’a good guy.” Wander paused, quickly turning sheepish. “Well, okay—I want y’to be _good_ but more importantly Hater, I want y’to be happy!”

“You,” Hater’s face distorted from confusion as he sat up beside Wander. “You want me to be happy?”

“Yeah!” Before Hater could stop him, Wander slipped onto his lap again, small hands squeezing the front of his cloak.

“But,” There was a slow but sure heat blossoming across Hater’s sternum. “All, all the times you tried to convince me to be good, when you’d _harass_ me—”

“All the times I failed,” Wander pointed out with a small smile. “But never once did I give up, did I? Y’wanna know why?”

Hater, a little too stunned to answer, shook his head.

“I’ve seen what y’capable of when y’really put y’mind t’somethin’!” Hater watched Wander’s face light up in adoration, pulling a handful of Hater’s blankets into a hug. “Y’Lord Hater! Y’un-stoppable! Y’meanacin’! Y’spooky and scary, y’all the things y’want to be, Hater, ‘cept one thing.”

The blanket from between Wander’s arms fell to the bed as he took Hater’s hands in his own small ones, giving his palms a squeeze.

“Y’not happy, Hatey,” Wander looked sad, and despite fighting it, his waning look tugged on the little heart strings Hater had. “And the reason why ‘m here, honestly, is ‘cause I wanna make y’happy.”

“I don’t think y’really wanna be a bad guy, Hater,” Wander was back to whispering again. “I jus’ think y’don’t know how t’be happy! And well,”

“I think y’deserve a chance t’see a lil’ bit more of the joys in life. I think that if y’gave people a chance—if y’helped ‘em rather than tried t’rule ‘em—it would make y’a whole lot happier. Now, y’caught me, I guess I want y’to be a bit of a good guy—but I also don’t wanna change you, Hatey. I want _you_ t’change y’self,”

“Y’may not like me sometimes, but,” Wander raised Hater’s palm to rest his cheek against it with a soft trill of sound. “But I _always_ like y’Hater, jus’ the way y’are. And I’ll always be here for you, when y’read t’change on your own.”

“I can’t change you,” Wander said knowingly. “But I can give y’the tools t’help and ultimately, I’ll be here for you when y’ready. I wanna be here for you, for every lil’ step, ‘cause the reason I like you? Is ‘cause y’the Greatest in the Galaxy, Hater, _truly_ , and I wanna help y’see that. That is,”

Wander’s cheek felt soft through the material of Hater’s glove as he nuzzled his face close. “If y’let me.”

Hater wasn’t sure when his eyes had become so wet. It wasn’t the first time that Wander had pulled some mushy, ‘ _you’re the best, Hater, I want you to be happy, Hater._ ’ It was, however, the first time he listened to him, and the weight of his words sat like a thousands pounds on his chest.

It was a full minute of silence until Hater could finally look Wander in the eye, and he instantly regretted it. Wander spared him a warm, encouraging smile, and when he cocked his head to the side from his spot in Hater’s grasp, looking abhorrently endearing, Hater’s mouth ran dry.

Oh Grop, no. No, no, _no_. Now wasn’t exactly the time to have a revelation for the astonished skeleton.

It was all making sense now, and Hater turned green at the thought of it.

The tossing and turning, the loss of words and feelings of nausea, the constant thoughts about his nemesis.

The _anxiety_.

Hater, well.

It seemed that Hater liked Wander

Well, at least tolerated him enough to enjoy his kissing, Hater tried to convince himself. That he at least found the hairy, orange stray cute. It all made a frightening amount of sense, when Hater thought back to past experiences with girls: even the thought of speaking to a woman made Hater weak at the knees with apprehension and speaking difficult. With those big, green _Bambi_ -eyes looking expectantly up at him, Hater felt much of the same, mouth trembling with a nasty retort that would never come.

“I,” Hater tried but failed miserably as he pulled his hand from off of Wander, perspiration sopping the front of his robes till they were wet.

“Look, Hater, I didn’ come here t’overwhelm y’with talk of m’feelin’s, I came here t’jus’ say hi and,” Wander shrugged meekly down at the blankets, again showing Hater his proverbial underbelly, looking strangely nervous. “Well, I dunno, I guess all I can ask is for y’to believe me when I say I didn’ mean t’upset you, and, and I’ll let y’have y’space—”

“ _NO!_ ” The refusal tumbled out of Hater, as if he wasn’t insistently tongue-tied about the alien. “Don’t—I don’t want you to go. For once.” Hater added swiftly.

Wander blinked from his spot on Hater’s lap and slowly grinned. “Y’want me t’stay? Are y’sure?”

“YES, NOW SHUT UP ALREADY!” Hater screamed, flopping backwards, blanket and all, against his bed head full of pillows, bringing Wander tumbling along with him.

Yes, he was confused, and yes, all of Wander’s drivel was making his head spin, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that he did not want the little furball to get up and leave.

For once, Wander obeyed, keeping his mouth shut tight. Even so, he still had his typical, dopey smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he made himself comfortable in Hater’s lap.

And that’s how they sat for a while, in silence. Wander curled up under Hater’s chin, cheek pressed against his sternum, and Hater glaring at the wall, like it could give him the answers he seeked.

‘ _Okay,_ ’ Hater asked himself internally, frowning down at Wander’s hat, which was near poking him in the face. ‘ _What if I_ do _like him?_ ’

Hater tried to be realistic as he weighed the possibilities.

So, he could bake. And could clean. And could play music. And was a good dancer. Everyone liked him, apart from villains, and he never stayed sad.

Okay, so it seemed, Wander was pretty much great at everything, frustratingly so. Worse even, he was _humble_ about it.

Hater didn’t forget he was a good kisser, to boot. Well, at least Hater presumed, with his lack of experience.

He smelt nice, was soft and warm, and didn’t seem to find Hater’s boney body uncomfortable to cuddle against, which, with the way he sunk into him and purred, he seemed to be taking full advantage of.

And he liked Hater. Really, _really_ liked Hater. Like, it kind of seemed he wanted to date Hater? Still a little early to tell, but it was like Wander was trying to get the point across that he _liked_ liked Hater.

So, really, what was so bad about letting himself _like_ like Wander, even if just a little?

Then reality came crashing down on Hater as he considered the negatives.

A shrieking Peepers. A dumpy Zbornak constantly hanging around. Fellow evil villains laughing at Hater, their imagined sniggering eerie with how real they were bouncing about in his head.

Then there was the banjo. The _flarping_ banjo, which made Hater grind his teeth at just the thought of it’s hillbilly, twangy chords, and it took everything within Hater not to push Wander from off of him at the mere idea of hearing him play the blasted instrument.

Oblivious to his distress, Wander finally spoke up again, making Hater twitch in surprise. With all his internalized fretting, he nearly forgot Wander was there, sitting square on Hater’s legs.

“Cookie?” Wander blinked up at him, arm outstretched, as he extended said sweet to Hater.

Not taking Hater’s grimace personally, he gently pressed the cookie to the edge of Hater’s mouth, eyes as sweet and sparkly as ever. “ _Boink!_ ”

With a weary sigh, Hater took a bite of the offered dessert, drawing his eyes closed in a show of mental exhaustion.

“Why?” Wander perked up at Hater’s question, tilting his head in confusion.

“Hm?” Hater glared down at Wander, attempting to look imposing as he bared his teeth. Really, it was a loaded question, the more Hater considered it. _Why_ was Wander sitting in his lap? _Why_ did fate seem to want to torture Hater with his presence? _Why_ did Hater want Wander to stay so bad, anyway?

“Why are you so,” Hater hesitated, snatching the cookie from Wander’s hand to gesture about the air with it. “ _You?_ ”

“Hmmm, I dunno! S’not somethin’ I try t’think about a lot, t’be honest,” Wander said as took a cookie of his own to pick at. “What about you, Hatey?”

“Huh?” Hater blinked, taken back by the question.

“Well,” Wander’s cheeks were puffy as he chewed, mindful to speak after swallowing. “Why are _you_ so you?”

“ _Pfft_! That’s easy,” Hater said with a roll of his eyes, propping both arms along the back of his pillows.

Prepared with his usual spiel about how he was the galaxy’s  _number one super star_ —his witty banter, super awesome lightning powers, drop dead features, and chiseled, perfect physique—Hater found himself caught under the searching gaze of Wander, making him feel strangely exposed. It made sense, considering Wander’s own confession of why he apparently ‘ _liked_ ’ Hater.

Hater had spent a massive amount of time and resources crafting the Lord Hater empire under the idea of him being the single most amazing being that the galaxy had ever seen, and yet Wander, since the fateful day the two had first met, had seen right through Hater’s guise.

“Uh,” Hater looked as dumbfounded as he felt, afraid another existential crisis was quickly approaching.

“Y’know what I think?” Wander’s eyes were as kind as ever, and it made Hater’s stomach tight with apprehension. Not waiting for a response, Wander held another heart shaped sweet up for Hater, but this time, he pressed it against his ribcage. “I think it’s cause y’want someone t’ _love_ you~!”

Hater stared down at Wander, once again, completely stumped by the strange, little alien sitting in his lap. How someone, who came off as so simple and naive, could be so perceptive. It used to anger Hater, drive him into an insane type of need to destroy something he couldn’t relate to, let alone understand. Now, he felt more awe over Wander and his perspective on life than the usual rage, because despite refusing to say it out loud, Wander was right.

Hater had always just wanted to be loved. To have adoring fans, people to fawn over him and to please him.

And well: one of those few people were sitting right in Hater’s lap, getting cookie crumbs all down the front of him, not because he had the most planets conquered or out of fear.

It was, according to Wander, because he wanted to make him happy.

“I thought it was because I wasn’t happy?” Hater challenged with those sentiments in mind, taking a hold of Wander’s wrist to pull the cookie from off his cloak.

“Well, s’alittle a’both,” Wander said with bashfulness in his voice, blushing as he smiled sweetly up at Hater. “And can be mutually exclusive. O-only if y’want them t’be, a’course!”

“Alright, that’s it!” Quickly growing frustrated, Hater released Wander by the wrist to glare down at him, done beating around the bush. “Is this your strange, weird, backwards _Wander_ way of saying you _like_ me like me or something?! Because, look, I know _helping_ is ‘sort of your bag,’ but if you’re not trying to ‘help me’ by ‘changing me into a good guy,’ then what are you doing?!”

First it was the admission that Wander thought Hater was hot, then the kissing, _then_ the wet dreams, and now the whole ‘ _I_ _-want-you-to-be-happy-Hatey!?_ ’ It didn’t help that Hater was battling with own feelings, clearly demonstrated by his gymnast of a stomach and the profuse, uncomfortable sweating, but Grop-darn it he would not be the first to admit it!

Wander blinked up at him, wide-eyed, dropping the cookie from his hands in what Hater presumed was shock. Instantly, he regretted it, in fear of scaring Wander away, but he remembered better. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to run the annoyance of a creature off, he always managed to want to stay put.

“Oh!” Wander appeared embarrassed rather quickly, and it was still an unusual sight for Hater. “I thought—am I not bein’ clear enough that I _like_ you, like you?”

“I thought with the whole,” Wander drew his shoulders up high, so they sat close to the sides of his face as he rolled his hand in the air. “Kissin’-you-and-wantin’-t’make-y’happy spiel kinda clarified things?”

If Wander noticed Hater gaping at him, he made no comment, instead picking up the dropped cookie from the bed to sheepishly offer it to Hater. “Gosh, ‘m sorry, I guess ‘m not so good at talkin’ about m’feelin’s around you.”

“I think,” Wander giggled nervously, biting his lip in a way that like all those days in the Smooch Room, went straight down between Hater’s thighs. “I think it’s ‘cause I have a lil’ _crush_ on you.”

Well, if the constant nagging, following around, coddling, and finally, the flarping kiss wasn’t proof now, Hater had all the evidence he needed.

His Greatest Enemy had a _crush_ on him, and it came straight out from the star-nomad’s mouth.

Thankfully, the burden of his own feelings had prepared Hater for the magnitude of the admission, so Hater could speak up and scrutinize Wander, at least somewhat.

“So, uh” Hater blinked down at Wander. “You _like me_ , like me?”

Wander nodded, eyes shiny in what Hater was quickly learning was excitement, his hands nervously pulling at each other in expectation.

“And you, ever the optimist,” Hater mumbled under his breath. “Figure that you can make me happy?”

Wander nodded again, this time thrilled enough to nearly send his hat tumbling off to the bed.

“You, _Wander_ ,” Hater was more than eager to remind him. “My mortal enemy, the thorn in my side, a chaotic force of all that is good, happy, wonderful and,” he nearly winced.

“Helpful,” With a sigh, Hater raised an eye ridge.

“Think that after all we’ve been through can make me, Lord Hater, the single most terrible, evil, galactic conquerer, _NUMBER ONE SUPER STAR_ ,” Hater crossed his arms stubbornly along his ribs.

“Happy?”

Despite Hater’s disbelief, Wander was fully elated, eyes glassy with tears of hope, lips trembling as he nodded for a third time, this time nice and slow.

Again, Hater let the impatiently, bubbling Wander simmer in anticipation for a little bit, continuing to stare down at him with open skepticism before he offered a response.

“Show me.”

That seemed to take Wander by surprise, a refreshing change on Hater’s end, who, again feeling like the butt of a some universal joke, was glad to turn the tables.

“Huh?”

“Well, _Wander_ ,” Hater challenged, albeit nervously. “Why don’t you, I don’t know—show me where you’d start.”

Okay, he maybe was trying to manipulate Wander into kissing him again, but he told himself he _was_ a bad guy after all, and _no way_ indeed happy, and _definitely_ not too nervous to do it himself, so it was all in the name of research he was just short of daring Wander to kiss him.

Thankfully for Hater, Wander’s mouth finally twitched into something playful, eyelids lowering into a simper. “Y’really want me t’show you, huh, Hatey?”

Hater couldn’t stop himself from turning green with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe he wanted to kiss the stupid furball, but if the tickle in his ribcage was anything to go by, he was at least a little bit excited.

“Maybe.”

“Well,” Wander giggled as he pulled himself closer, till his lips were mere inches from Hater’s. “Y’ _have_ been lettin’ me sit in y’lap,”

“Unfortunately,” Hater murmured, slowly but surely glaring down at Wander, but it was lacking its usual ferocity.

“And y’haven’t yelled so much. Or tried t’strangle me.” Wander let out a bit of a chirp as he ran a hand over Hater’s antenna, successfully making Hater bite back a sound of his own. “And y’even let me cuddle y’a’little!”

Words were difficult and Hater was already beginning to sweat. “Don’t remind me.”

“Maybe, I dunno,” Wander tried to look nonchalant himself as he finally ghosted his mouth against Hater’s, eyebrows waggling suggestively. “Maybe y’ _like me_ like me a lil’ too, Hatey?”

Old habits died hard, and Hater had a sudden thought of reaching out for Wander to choke the smugness right off the little hairball’s face, to watch him turn red from lack of air and not out of his obnoxiously adorable blushing, but Hater decided to settle his intentions elsewhere, hands grabbing at the back of Wander’s head to mash their mouths together, eager enough to make the little mop vocally swoon.

Unlike their first kiss, awkward and full of teeth, Hater met Wander’s mouth easily and vice versa, Wander’s fingers curling tight in the front of Hater’s hood. There was no hesitance when tongues met and hands roamed, and Hater was surprised to find his breath trembled a mere minute into their frzzerp kiss.

Hater was wondering why since waking, they hadn’t tried this sooner, because _Grop_ , did he miss this, the feel of Wander’s mouth, his fur against his face, the _silence_. He was quick to remember how much he liked kissing the last time he had “enjoyed” Wander’s company.

Wander’s kiss was like his personality: eager and persistent, but with a gentleness that left room for Hater to keep up. He tasted familiar, and it made Hater more comfortable than their first, already used to the taste of autumn and pine, no longer feeling overwhelmed but now addicted, finding himself craving it.

By the time Hater’s fingers twisted themselves in Wander’s fur, dragging down the creature's back till he was shuddering in his arms, Wander was pulling away, hat forgotten on the floor, panting hard enough to cast his breath warm across Hater’s face.

“M’goodness, Hatey,” Wander’s voice was shy but low and sultry with something Hater liked to think was reserved just for him. “I, I—I guess I missed y’more than I thought!”

Wander’s nervous giggle was cuter than Hater could ever imagine, and the skeleton found himself fighting off a smirk.

“Well, yeah,” Hater tried, willing himself to sound confident, looking sideways. “ _Who_ wouldn’t miss me and my amazing kissing prowess?”

“You _do_ still think I’m a good kisser,” Hater asked, needing a tad bit more reassurance. “Right?”

“Hatey!” Wander purred as he yanked him closer by the robes, Hater’s nerves returning briefly from the hungry look in Wander’s eyes “Y’the greatest in the galaxy!”

“R-really?” Chest feeling hot with pride, Hater ran another hand through Wander’s fur subconsciously, spurring another round of shivering from the little Wanderer. “You really _think_ I’m that good?”

“Y-yes, I,” Wander looked down in embarrassment as he drew his knees close again, Hater watching the way his abdomen twitched as he choked back his initial excitement. “Y’said y’couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me,”

Hater’s mouth began to water, feeling a new sense of longing at the idea of Wander’s vulnerability.

“I couldn’ stop thinkin’ about you, too!”

Wander practically climbed him, making the skeleton rear his head back in surprise as the nomad wrapped his gangly legs about Hater’s ribcage, till they were truly face to face, till Hater could see the fine hairs above Wander’s lips.

“It’s jus,” Wander began to prattle on, kissing Hater every few words. “I really, _really_ missed you,” _kiss_ , “But I didn’ know if y’wanted t’see me, at least so soon!” Hater came mouth to mouth with Wander again. “And the whole, y’know— _Galaxy-bein’-completely-gutted-by-Dominator thing_ , I have t’say, it’s makin’ adventurin’ and seein’ you,” Wander kissed him a third time. “A lil’ bit difficult!”

Hater could understand, somewhat. At least he tried to: it was a bit difficult to put himself in the sneakers of a fuzzy, help-freak guru, caught between the desire to save the universe and kiss the most awesome villain in history. To make it a little easier, Hater tried to compare Wander’s experience to his own: panicking and obsessing over the fact he wanted to kiss his greatest enemy, wading through the treacherous waves of denial. Sounded similar—sort of.

“Uh, yeah?” Hater managed to murmur before Wander’s mouth found his a fourth time, making sure to press a bit longer. He pushed his tongue out with the expectation of melting into another kiss.

“ _But_!” Hater was starting to scowl at Wander’s interruptions. “I told m’self I would see y’soon, that we would definitely keep in touch, it’s not _that_ big of a galaxy! I wanted t’give you a lil’ space, a lil’ time, but then I spotted y’ship in the distance and I jus’  _knew_ y’had to try m’all Vegan recipe, so I said what the heck!—”

“You,” Frustrated with Wander’s chattering, Hater used his leverage on Wander to flip them on the bed, till Wander was underneath him, his fur flush, pressing enough against the pillow that he looked sandwiched between it and Hater’s glare. “Talk _entirely_ too much.”

Briefly, Hater saw something in Wander’s eyes that he had seen traces of between kissing, the nomad’s breath catching, his face coloring, his lashes fluttering. It was brief—but just enough to pique his curiosity.

“Oh, I know, it’s jus’,” Wander tried, looking a little frazzled when Hater ran a hand along his spine once again, making him rise slightly from off the bed, following the curve of Hater’s touch. “I-I do tend to get a lil’ ahead of myself—”

“Oh, I _know_ you do,” Hater murmured. Even with Wander growing on him, Hater was impatient as ever, and ready for more smooching. He had been dreaming—er, _fretting_ —over it ever since. “Up until you _rudely_ interrupted—weren’t you busy trying to make me happy?”

So maybe Wander’s babbling was sort of cute, he guessed, in his usual, annoying, Wander way but—he wanted kisses, Grop darn it!

“Mmmmm, Hatey!” The implication in Wander’s voice was steadily making Hater’s hubris ebb away, and he was suddenly all too conscious of their position. Wander, straddling Hater’s pelvis, from below, with something akin to desire heavy in his eyes. “Aren’t _we_ gettin’ saucy!”

“I, uh,” About to rise off of Wander in a hopes of finding something smooth to say, Wander was pulling him close by the front of his cloak again, looking at Hater in a way that made his stomach flutter.

“I like it, Hatey,” Wander’s mouth was back on him, not without a purr. “I _like it_ , like it.”

Wander made up for every minute wasted on his prattling, pressing his furry mouth back to Hater’s, pushing his way into his mouth with an excited hum. Both his hands were back to the crinkles on Hater’s antennas, thumbs pressing against them delicately, but enough to make Hater swallow back a moan. It wasn’t too difficult with the way Wander kissed him, keen and as hungry as earlier, as he whimpered into Hater’s mouth.

Wander felt warm against his lap, and amongst _other_ places, and despite looking on the scrawny side, felt plush for Hater to press into. It was a little distracting to concentrate not putting his full weight on the small alien, and it wasn’t helping with the confusion of his hand placement and Wander’s tireless _squirming_ —even during kissing, the nomad just couldn’t sit still, wiggling beneath him, fingers rubbing his antenna's, and tongue vibrating with every purr in his throat. It was quickly creating a stir low in Hater’s bones.

Feeling like he was losing traction on the situation, Hater decided on a change of pace, intentionally reaching for Wander’s stomach to brush his fingers across the sensitive fur that laid there. It was fast to work, Wander tensing and twitching his leg, pulling off of Hater to twist against the sheets.

“These are your nipples, huh?” Hater thought out loud as he repeated the action, watching Wander toss his head back with a mewl. He thought of the nights he had spent trying to dissect Wander, to find a means to torture him, unaware of what lied beneath the lawyers of fur, only for his commander to explain it in a rather embarrassing fashion.

“Hng!” Wander bit his lip and turned a darker shade orange in the cheeks, making Hater quirk a brow. “Y-yes, it’s—that’s them!”

“Oh,” Hater tried to play it cool, eyes shifting from left to right. “I, I knew that.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t torturing him, _per se_ , but the longer he did it, the more he realized that, flarp, he was enjoying it. _Thoroughly_ , actually, if he was being honest, and Hater caught himself chewing on his tongue in anticipation after a few thorough rakes of his finger through the star nomad’s fur.  
  
Again, Hater found himself feeling fascinated, mesmerized by the way Wander reacted to every one of his touches. Mindful of being careful, Hater pressed his hand against the smaller creature’s chest. Wander’s heart beat felt all encompassing, like a bird trapped in a cage, ribs already vibrating with the strength of his purring.

The little nubs on Wander’s middle began to pebble with every caress, Hater was careful when he rolled one between two fingers. Wander called out and shook from head to toe, voice shaking like the rest of him.

“Oh my,” Wander’s leg twitched against the bed as he fisted at the sheets, head tossing forward as he panted in Hater’s direction. “Mmmmm, H-Hatey?”

With the infliction of a question in Wander’s voice, Hater finally looked up from his work, freezing at what he found.

Wander’s pupils were blown wide enough to nearly make the whole of his eyes look black, the scruff on his neck fluffy, feathering out like the plumage of a bird. He was squeezing his knees again, tight enough to make them knock together, as he leaned up in means of getting closer to him.

“Can you,” Wander chewed on his lip, hard enough for Hater to see it pinch visibly between his teeth. “Can you jus’—”

Speaking was proving difficult for the little star nomad, and Hater found himself relishing it, leaning close with a smugness that came easy.

“ _Yes_ , Wander?” Hater was feeling back to his usual pompous self as he twisted one of Wander’s nipples between his fingers, making Wander force back a squeal. “Can I, _Lord Hater_ , the most tender, giving and _greatest_ lover to grace your existence, just _what_?”

No, Hater didn’t have it in him anymore to torture Wander.

He could, however, make him _beg_.

Past visions of Wander pleading for Hater’s mercy, for his life, easily turned into daydreams of Wander’s wanton begging. What with their new found “feelings,” it sounded perfect, and the ends of Hater’s smile curved into something dark and conniving at the idea of exploiting his new discovery.

Maybe the embarrassment of dwelling on his nipples wasn’t for naught, after all.

“Oh, uh, can you jus’,” Hater ran his hands down the whole front of Wander, till the creature arched right into his touch, breath catching between his words. “C-can you do that thing y’do? With, with y’tongue? When y’ _kissin’_ me?”

“What ‘ _thing_ ’ do you ever mean?” Hater continued to play coy, till another idea struck him, making his beguiling sneer grow.

“Oh, _wait_ —did it go something like _this_?”

Hater ran his hand along the hardening buds on Wander’s belly, the tips of his fingers catching against his fur as he showered him with gentle sparks. Wander’s pupils dilated, a near instant reaction, shrinking to the size of a pea before blooming wide. His leg thumped violently against the bed before he squeezed his knees tight, mouth twisting open in an airy moan.

“ _Yes_!” If it wasn’t for the dopey smile on Wander’s face, Hater could have sworn the nomad was sobbing. “Yes, _PLEASE,_ I want more, please, oh pretty please, _please_ —!”

Wander was snatching him forward before he could be teased any longer, sticking to Hater’s mouth with desperation, his tongue only letting up once Hater’s own sent sparks shooting along the whole of his mouth.

The amount of static electricity the two of the were producing made Wander’s fur prickle and stick against Hater’s face and his gloves, the nomad’s whole body shuddering with every twist of Hater’s tongue and flicker of lightning along his fingers.

It felt like a whole minute of passionate, spark-induced kissing until Hater’s chest burned with the need for air, forcing Wander from off him with a gentle tug to his bangs. The nomad hardly seemed to notice, eyes looking up at Hater with a tenderness that was undeniably something deeper than a mere annoying promise of friendship, his chest rising and falling, legs spreading as his body sagged against the bed.

Hater could feel his face heat up with something similar, eyes going wet, mouth dry from the conduction of electricity, so sure he couldn’t tear his face from off of Wander’s eyes.

Up until he looked between the Wanderer’s legs.

Really, Hater didn’t mean to stare, mouth going slack as his eyes grew glossy and wide from the vision before him. At first he didn’t know exactly what he was looking at, or really, _which one_ to look at, because to Hater’s surprise, Wander had two sets of genitals.

It wasn’t that they weren’t familiar to him—he had access to the internet, after all—but it was the fact that Wander indeed had two parts to him: one protruding from whatever sheath that normally kept it hidden, and the other, set within a layer of his fur, like a split down the seam of him. Both, however, looked swollen and flushed in a clear state of arousal, and Hater didn’t know where to begin.

Wander had a cock. Small, although proportionate, curved, pink, and Hater thought, begrudgingly cute like the rest of him. Beading with just a smidgen of precome, it stood tall and fleshy unlike the rest of him, and proof of Wander’s lust, but it was what it sat perched above that kept stealing Hater’s attention.

It was just a shock, to see a, a—a _vulva_ on Wander. He made quite the point to ask Hater if he would consider kissing a boy, but as far as Hater understood, girls were usually the owners of, of—it was hard for Hater to process the news. For all he knew, considering he didn’t even know what Wander was, it was the norm for his species to have both. It was a surprise, for sure, but not an unpleasant one in the slightest.

Besides, Hater told himself—it just meant _double_ the fun, right? Then he got the best of both worlds!

The prospect did make him nervous, because _double_ the parts meant _double_ the work, and _double_ the opportunity to mess up and make a fool of himself, but that didn’t stop the deep, seated stirring to rouse hot from between his legs.

“Hatey?”

Hater immediately pulled his gaze from off of Wander, putting both hands to his face and looking guilty, caught red handed at being privy to something without an invitation.

“I’m, I’m not staring at your junk, that would be rude!" Hater swore, cringing and taking a deep breath at how pathetic he sounded. “Look, I’m a bad guy but I’m not _that_ bad, I _totally_ didn’t look at your, y-your thing… _ies_!“

“Hatey,” Wander said again, this time sounding intrigued when he whispered. “Y’ _glowin_ ’!”

From behind his gloves, Hater blinked, until he quickly pulled them off his eyes to see for himself. Immediately, he wanted to hide right back beneath his hands, so sure that if Wander continued staring at him with such an open look of wonder, he would surely die from the embarrassment.

Because, well.

Lord Hater, the greatest in the galaxy, had an awkward boner glowing through the cotton of his cloak.

With Wander’s mouth agape, Hater could see the green shine of his dick against the black of his wide, curious eyes and instantaneously, he felt mortified.

Hater hastily turned away, letting out a yip of embarrassment as he squeezed his thighs together and hunched over, trying desperately but failing to will away the hard on trapped in his boxers.

“STOP STARING!” Despite electricity currently occupying more mortifying places, the skeleton had just enough in him to glow bright green in the face as he nearly tumbled from off the bed. “YOU’RE STARING AND IT’S RUDE AND, AND—”

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry!” Wander was quick to sit up, as if unaware of his own erection pressing against his belly as he scooted closer on his knees. “I jus’—would I be movin’ too fast if asked t’maybe see it..?”

With Wander’s avid curiosity, a small beacon of hope shined through the stuffy, uncomfortable clouds of Hater’s humiliation, how weak it may have been. “Um, well,”

No one had ever seen Lord Hater’s privates. And well, it didn’t help that there was no one quite like Lord Hater in the galaxy, so it wasn’t like he had anyone to compare to. Of course, he was apprehensive: what if Wander thought it looked weird? Or ugly? Or just—another awful thing people thought about other’s genitals when they saw them for the first time undressed?

Hater, looking as skittish as he felt, turned to Wander as he pulled nervously at the collar of his robe. He was sweating profusely, not helping with the current situation of his cock pressing uncomfortably into his thigh.

Wander looked as encouraging as he ever did, crawling closer on his hands and knees, but this time consciously keeping his eyes on Hater’s face. He was doing a better job at being respectful than the Overlord, because Hater couldn’t help but watch the way Wander’s little prick bounced between his legs with every step, till he was hit with another hard wave of arousal.

Wander was back to sitting next to him, his erection flush between his legs, but again he paid no mind. He seem to focus only on Hater as he reached up to peck him on the lips, both hands feeling warm against the skeleton’s face.

“If y’don’t wanna, s’okay,” Wander promised, and Hater believed him. “Don’t feel obligated t’me, Hatey—I only want what _you_ want, nothin’ more than that.”

Wander reached up to kiss him again, softer this time, before he settled to sit on the bed. Finally, he had enough presence of mind to lean back to examine his own genitalia, and Hater watched him break into a flush from the neck up.

“Sorry,” Wander whispered as he sat straight, making Hater very conscious that his privates were sitting level with his mattress. “Lookin’ like I got a bit excited m’self, huh?”

“Um, yeah,” Hater was certainly aware of it, and Wander seemed shameless, albeit without a little blushing. It was quite the contrast to Hater, who hugged his knees close, pulling consciously at the parts of his robe that tented, so his glowing wasn’t so noticeable. “So you—you have both?”

“Yep!” Wander kept it simple at first, till he visibly hesitated

“Well,” Wander scratched at his throat as he thought out loud. “‘ _Both_ ’ I guess in the ‘ _traditional_ ’ sense, I figure there are a lotta alien’s with’a whole lotta other parts out there—universe is a big place!”  
  
Wander gave an awkward giggle, finally consciously pressing his calves together, till only the tip of his cock peeked out from between his fur. He dutifully kept his eyes only on Hater’s face, doing a much better job of minding where his vision wandered compared to Hater, who found it difficult not to peek every few seconds.

“ _Sooooo_ ,” Hater trailed off as he looked from side to side, eyes darting between Wander’s lap and his mouth. After reminding himself that he was having a mature conversation, he tried to pick his words carefully.

“Does that mean, like, a baby could fall out of you? Or something?”

Hater mentally smacked himself as he outwardly cringed; it came out a lot less smoother than he intended. Wander didn’t seem to notice as he responded easily.

“I suppose so?” Wander offered another shrug paired with his usual humble smile. “But I mean—it hasn’t happened yet!”

“Oh,” Hater didn’t know what to say, so he settled on folding his hands on his lap, still painfully and embarrassingly aroused as he looked anywhere but at Wander. “That’s good. I think. Or whatever.”

The awkward silence that followed after was deafening, and Hater feared the worst. That’s it, he assumed: his title of _Space-Casanova_ this south of their galaxy was lost to the dredges of awkwardness and cold feet. Hater was regretting his shyness at the fear that Wander would think he was gross or weird underneath his cloak, because of course, Wander didn’t seem to mind.

Actually, on the contrary, when he managed to stop being so timid about looking at the nomad, he caught the other stealing glances at Hater’s crotch too. Subconsciously or not, Wander openly palmed himself, Hater watching him ghost his finger along the inside of his own thighs, reproducing the same stirring that Hater had felt earlier.

He was really regretting making this weird, because when Wander was caught staring, he noticeably perked up and met Hater’s eyes again, face turning a lovely color of burnt orange, and Hater’s arousal was making the insides of his bones hot again.

“So, um, if I ain’t imposin’,” Wander moved closer but kept a few inches between them, offering only a tender hand on Hater’s. “How does yours—well, how does yours work?”

Hater considered kissing Wander, at the very least to shut him up again, but instead he concentrated on the way his dainty fingers slid against his own. Then he considered the fact that Wander was so open to his questioning, and well, comfortable around him, so he swallowed down his jitters and responded the best he could.

“Uh,” Hater turned his wrist, till Wander’s palm sat flat against his hand, and he couldn’t stop himself from thumbing affectionately at the nomad’s fuzzy knuckles. “W-well, if you really wanna know so bad,”

Hater met Wander’s eyes, seeing the way they still held onto his face, genuine and gentle as ever. It put him at ease a bit more, and Hater relaxed as he pulled their hands from off his lap and in turn, from what they had been hiding.

“It just kind of,” Hater could feel Wander’s stare as he looked down at his own dick. “It sort of just happens?”

It was the honest truth—Hater just kind of always seemed to _be_ , for the lack of a better term. He ate, slept, breathed like any other alien. He could get sick, sweaty, and of course, cry, along with the rest of the other annoying, bodily functions that came with being a sentient, functioning being.

So, yes, Hater could get aroused, and it just happened to manifest itself like the electricity that he harbored in his body: green, glowing, but after enough stimulation, turning into something physical, touchable, and, quite literally, hard.

There was no other way to describe it, and not something Hater typically liked to dwell on, either. He was one of a kind, after all, and thinking about it made him feel gloomier than he liked to admit.

“Oh,” Wander blinked up at him, once again provoking something hot in Hater that made him want to cover Wander’s mouth with his own.

“Y’know,” Beating him to the punch, Wander craned his neck just enough to nuzzle into the side of Hater’s jaw, not without a gentle purr. “Last I checked, I was in the middle a’kissin’ you.”

Hater couldn’t help but huff at his playful tone of voice, but he found himself hooking an arm around Wander’s shoulder anyway, as a means of pulling him closer. Dragging Wander along the bed seemed to make the little alien’s knees jump from the sensitivity at his nether regions. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t intrigue Hater in both a mental and physical sense.

“You _were_ in the middle of so-called making me ‘ _happy_ ,’’” Hater snorted as he pressed his forehead to Wander’s, not without a frown. “And doing a poor job of it right now, may I add.”

“Oh?” Wander sat back, smirking mischievously as he raised both eyebrows suggestively. “I dunno, Hatey, y’know I ain’t one t’disagree, but it’s lookin’  _t’me_ like I’m makin’ y’ _plenty_ happy so far!”

“ _Hey!_ ” Mortified, Hater turned positively green in the face as Wander giggled beside him, scowling as he pushed the star nomad carefully to the mattress. “Grop, _ugh_! Can you take anything seriously _ever_?! How can one, stupid furball be so insufferable!?”

Wander tumbled down to the bed sideways in a heap of warm laughter, legs falling open again, softening Hater’s ire when he was meant with an open view to what sat between Wander’s legs.

“S’okay, Hatey!” Wander whispered as he fluttered his lashes at him in that way that made Hater squirm at the edge of the bed. “Y’makin’ me _real_ happy, too.”

Looming over him, Hater tried to glare down at Wander, but it was hard to be intimidating when he traced the curve of Wander’s cock with his eyes, looking at how pink and perky it was, and the flushed slit that rested beneath.

“W-well,” He kept finding himself distracted by the idea of what Wander would do when he touched him, if he would cry out and moan, what he would feel like. “Well, _duh_! You are kind of, you, you know—hooking up with the galaxy’s number one-superstar, it’s gonna rock your world.”

“Y’weren’t lyin’ when you said y’were the greatest, Hatey,” Wander twisted a bit in the bed, the sheets shifting beneath him a bit from the movement. The loud purr he let out went straight between Hater’s legs, making him again lament over his initial shyness. “Y’really makin’ me all flustered!”

Intentionally or not, Wander spread out beneath Hater was making his arousal throb, and he had to reach up and wipe a noticeable amount of sweat from off his brow before he finally managed a half-hearted response.

“Y-yeah, of course I am! I’m,”

Hater found himself with his hand on Wander’s middle, running along the nubs that were his nipples, before settling right above his groin. “I’m Lord Hatey— _Hater_ ! I’m _Lord Hater!_ ”

“And _you_! You’re my, my greatest enemy,” Hater was just short of grinding his teeth together at how bad he wanted to reach down and touch Wander, but he found himself too shy to ask, opting to pull the edges of his hood closed around his face with his free hand in a means of hiding his embarrassment. “You’re Wander, my stupid, annoying, awful and unbearably cute enemy that I so totally can’t stand.”

For the first time since meeting Wander, calling him his ‘enemy,’ even when muffled by his cloak, sounded wrong to Hater’s antennas.

“Hater,” To his surprise, Wander reached up to carefully take a hold of his wrist, not without a squeeze. “‘M sorry, ‘m not helpin’ things at all, am I?”  
  
“How could I be so selfish,” Sitting up and looking guilty, Wander took a deep breath, not without a shake of his head, like he was trying to gather about his own wits. “We don’t have t’do this, the last thing I wanna go about doin’ is makin’ y’uncomfortable—”

“ _I’m not uncomfortable_ !” Hater found himself snapping as he revealed himself from out of his hiding spot, not without a flush. “I-I’m just—I’m taking my time, isn’t that what y’know, _foreplay_ is all about?!”

“Yeah,” Pulling his hat close in his first attempts of modesty, Wander covered himself sheepishly, not without an unsure smile. “B-but maybe the best approach would be us sittin’ down and discussin’—”

“Don’t you _DARE_ say ‘discussing our feelings,’ Wander, or so help me!” Hater warned through bared teeth. If they hadn’t spent half the time they wasted talking, this would have gone a lot smoother than intended, something Hater could admit only to himself he was to blame. “I’m not uncomfortable, and I _DO NOT_ want to talk about it! It’s just,”

Pulling at his antennas in frustration, Hater threw his arms out as he sat up in the bed, nearly shouting down at Wander.

“I do want to do this, but I’m just a little nervous, okay!? I, I don’t wanna _flarp_ this up! I, I don’t want you to think I’m bad at it, or, or that, that my _dick_ looks weird, or, or something!” Once the dam had given way, even just a trickle, Hater found it hard to stop, till the whole thing came crashing in on itself.

“I like this, doing this type of stuff with you and if that stupid and totally lame jerk _Lord What’s-Her-Face_ doesn’t blow us to pieces, I don’t want it to stop! _I like_ you like you, alright!? Are you happy now, Mr. Let’s-Share-Our-Feelin’s, _Hatey_ , You-Need-to-be-More-Open-With-How-You-Feel, _Hatey_ , sweet _Grop_!”

It wasn’t until Wander blinked at him, eyes growing wide and sparkly like in the Smooching room, that Hater realized what he had just admitted.

“ _Sort of_ !” Hater was regretting opening his big mouth, hurriedly speaking in an attempt to backtrack. “I _sort of_ like you! It’s, it’s actually more of me _not liking_ you than me _like_ liking you! It’s more like _hate_ , even! More like _I_ like doing _this_ —CAN YOU _NOT_ LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT AGAIN?!”

“Hater,” Wander’s voice warbled from emotion, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, making Hater throw his head back in an exasperated groan.

“Oh, _Grop_ , here it comes…”

“Why would y’ever think _I’d_ think y’were bad? Or that, y’know,” Wander’s voice dropped into something low. “Y’ _intimates_ were funny lookin’, I would never!”

“I, I don’t know!” When Wander put it that way, reminding him that in his bed right now, wanting to make out with him, was the nicest weirdo in the galaxy, it made him feel silly, and the thought of the word ‘ _silly_ ’ alone made him turn green in rage and embarrassment.

“It’s okay t’be nervous,” Wander sat back at his side before taking both of Hater’s hands in his own, pulling them to his lips to give them another tender kiss. “After all, ‘m a’lil’ nervous m’self!”

Wander, fearless to a fault, took Hater by surprise with the admission.

“You are?” Wander offered him a playful smile as he nodded in confirmation, making his bangs comically flop a bit on the top of his head.

“Well, yeah!” Wander let go of Hater’s hands as he took a deep breath, looking a little guarded as he hunched his shoulders high. “I did tell you I _liked y_ ’liked y’and all.”

“And I do wanna make y’happy,” Wander added as he looked nervously down to his knees, not without a soft hum. “And I don’t wanna do a bad job,”

“But,” Wander finally looked back up at Hater, tentatively smiling as he leaned forward to peck him on the lips. “I can’t be doin’ too bad if y’thinkin’ that y’sort of _like_ me, like me~!”

Hater’s eye noticeably twitched at Wander’s sing-song tone of voice. “The key word is _sort of_.”

“Sort of is still somethin’, though, right?” Even Hater wasn’t oblivious to the hopefulness in Wander’s tone.

Hater sighed, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling in exasperation. Really, he only had himself to blame: he could have shut the both of them up with a kiss, but _noooooooo_ , he had to get worked up and feed right into Wander’s plans of mushy, gross touchy-feely talk.

The worst part was that Wander was absolutely correct: ‘ _sort of_ ,’ _like_ liking Wander was still something in the grand scheme of his emotions, and annoyingly enough, Hater couldn’t find it in himself to lie.

“I guess, whatever,” Hater crossed his arms and huffed, feeling bitter about the turnout of their first romantic visit together since their last kiss.

“Great,” Hater huffed, feeling sore, angry, and like crawling into a hole and never coming out. “this was officially ruined!”

“Oh, Hatey,” Wander pressed his cheek into Hater’s arm, letting out a small chirp. “Y’not havin’ fun any more?”

“No!” Wander looked up at him with sad eyes and Hater hated how it made his chest tight. “We were kissing and touching, and, and then I, I got nervous over nothing, and of course you had to bring up feelings, _of course_!—”

Hater was taken by surprise when Wander slipped himself under his arm, pressing himself along the side of Hater’s ribs, and in turn, putting them face to face.

“We don’t have t’talk about feelin’s anymore,” Wander’s moved his lashes in a come-hither motion, successfully reminding Hater of his erection. “If y’don’t wanna.”

“I,” Hater looked at Wander’s mouth, could feel himself beginning to slowly but surely sweat again. “I-I didn’t wanna talk about them in the first place.”

“‘M sorry Hatey,” Wander said with a whisper, voice husky and low, and successfully making his dick twitch. “If I give y’a few kisses, will it make y’feel better?”

Hater could hear his heartbeat thud heavy in his head as Wander hooked a few fingers under the edges of his ribs, pressing the cotton of his robe against his bones. It was reminding him of how stuffy the room was, and the stupidly adorable look of Wander’s smile, and how soft and fuzzy said smile was against his mouth.

Hater ran a hand through the hair of Wander’s back, enjoying the way his muscles twitched beneath his fur, how he purred and closed his eyes. Officially sick of talking, Hater answered by leaning tentatively forward and kissing Wander, making sure to cast a gentle spark along their mouths that made Wander keen audibly against his lips.

Intentionally or not, Wanders erection pressed into his cloak, making Hater even more conscious of it. It was as warm as the rest of Wander, if not warmer, and Hater began to think more and more about what was going on between Wander’s legs. If Hater touched one of his genitals, did the other feel it? Did they both secrete? Did Wander have a preference? Thinking about it made Hater want to know more, and well, made him feel horny, and suddenly he was more curious than nervous.

Afterall—Wander asked him questions too, admitted to liking him enough to be nervous, had a boner from his, Lord Hater’s, _amazing_ sexual abilities—that had to mean something, right?

He could do this, no sweat. Wander clearly liked him, and could see with a brief glance down at his lap that Grop, Hater liked him too. So when Hater pulled away, could see the hazy look in Wander’s eyes when a spark of electricity ran across the inside of his mouth with a pleasant sigh, Hater did his best to swallow back his nerves.

“Can,” Hater didn’t mean to whisper, but he didn’t stop himself, either. “Would it be, I don’t know, cool if I touch it? Erm!” Hater was quick to correct. “ _Them_! Touched them?”

Still a little dizzy from the kiss, it had taken a moment for Wander to register the surprise on his face. “You—y’wanna touch me, Hatey? Are y’sure?”

Giving a small shrug, Hater had taken a moment or so to meet Wander’s eyes again. “Yeah.”

Mustering a little more courage, he repeated a little firmer. “Yeah, I do.”

When Wander held his look, it was difficult for Hater to keep up with him, still antsy despite feeling more comfortable. It was, after all, his first time being intimate with anyone, and he tried telling himself that being jittery was normal, and similar to the fateful day in the Smooch Room, would pass.

Because, similar to his discovery with kissing, he assumed people enjoyed sex for a reason.

“Alright, but,” It was still strange to see Wander so solemn, but Hater felt a little more comforted when the nomad put a hand to the side of his face. “Y’promise me y’tell me if y’wanna stop, right?”

“Yes.”

Wander leaned back in Hater’s arm as he propped a hand on his hip. “Right?”

“Yes,” The slow boil of annoyance was churning in Hater’s chest as he narrowed his eyes. “ _Yes_ , I will—”

“ _Riiiiiiight_?” Wander raised both his eyebrows as he pressed his face into Hater’s, the two of them eye to eye till Hater pulled away to shout.

“YES, _YES_ , I WILL TELL YOU, OKAY?!!” Again, time and time again, Wander had managed to remind him of the piece of work he truly was.

Wander regarded him with a suspicious gaze till his eyes went wide and his mouth broke into a toothy grin, tongue darting out from between his teeth. “...Mmmmmmokay!”

And just like that, Wander plopped himself square in Hater’s lap, and in turn, in the area of well, Hater’s _area_ , making the skeleton tense up in his seat.

With Hater’s legs thrown open, Wander planted himself right in between, only a few mere inches away from Hater’s crotch. Spreading himself out as well, he placed his feet at both sides of Hater, legs just long enough to reach past the skeleton’s hips.

Along with one of his more bashful smiles, Wander took one of Hater’s hands, gently squeezing his wrist as he pressed it against his fur.

“H-Hatey,” Subconsciously or not, Hater was running his fingers along the knobs hidden below Wander’s fuzz, making him twitch. “Y’mind takin’ off one of y’gloves?”

“Oh, uh,” Hater made sure to reach for his organic hand, unsure if the mechanic parts of his robotic one would freak Wander out. Again, the thought did little for Hater’s nerves as he carefully slipped off his chosen glove. He convinced himself that it was just a trick of the eye when his hand began to shake.

“Do you,” Hater asked honestly. “Do you have a preference?”

“No, last I checked, both work jus’ fine,” Wander said with a look down, eyes tracing the curve of his own erection. “May I…?”

Wander was already reaching, guiding Hater between his legs, and pressing his boney palm along the head of his dick.

The skin was as hot as it looked, smooth and strangely slick, contrasting from the thick fur along the rest of Wander’s body. Hater met the nomad’s face as he nudged himself along the inside of Hater’s hand, watching the way Wander bit his lip and twisted his back, eyes fluttering as he eased into the other’s touch.

“Gosh, Hatey, y-y’kinda cold,” he whispered as he pressed his hips up, grinding into him.

“Is, is that bad?” He nearly withdrew until Wander eased back up against him, cock pressing a little firmer this time, looking up with wide eyes and a blush that cut straight through Hater.

"No, s’pleasant,” Wander purred and let out a shaky breath, throwing his head back with a tiny, satisfied smile. “I like it.”

Entranced, Hater watched the way Wander’s hips raised and fell, could feel the friction of flesh on bone that was making Wander’s legs quiver beside him. At some point, Wander had let go of him and left Hater to do as he pleased, but he was far too entertained by the sight of Wander alone, watching the curve of his spine as he tried to rub harder and how his eyes fluttered.

It had taken Hater a moment in the fuzz of his lust for Wander to find the right word in his mind’s vocabulary. Wander looked… _hot_. Never in a million years did Hater think he’d describe Wander of all creatures as hot, but right now, grinding into Hater, he looked undeniably sexy.

Acting on instinct, Hater wrapped his fingers along the base of Wander’s erection, his own breath catching in his throat when the star nomad let out a loud moan.

“ _Hnng_ ,” Wander ran trembling fingers through his own bangs, pupils wide and fur becoming fuller once again, filling out like feathers, giving him more of a feral look as he whimpered up at Hater. “Hatey, can you, would it be too much—would y’please—”

Hater didn’t make him beg. Besides, he was far too nervous to speak, let alone tease him or even ask what Wander was requesting, but he had a hunch. Keeping in mind what he did in the privacy of his bedroom, Hater began to move his hand up and down carefully, grip firm but mindful, and it seemed to have worked.

Wander let out a mewl that made Hater turn green from the shame and sensuality of it all, and his robes suddenly felt cumbersome and unbearable against his bones.

“I,” It had taken Hater a moment to realize he was speaking as he pulled his hand away from Wander. “I think,”

Hater couldn’t do much thinking at all but he did know one thing: he wanted to know what it felt like being touched by Wander. Other than entertaining fantasies on his lonesome, he had never been touched before and well—if the way Wander was reacting was anything to go by, it felt as good as when he touched himself, if not better.

Besides, thanks to a certain _Dominator_ , it was quite possibly going to be the last season--of their lives. Hater didn’t want to end it a complete virgin.

Wander sat back up and composed himself, fur still a little puffy and face flushed, but his hand was back on Hater’s to squeeze it supportively.“What’s wrong, Hatey?” He sounded concerned as he leaned up to give him a peck on the lips. “Y’okay? Do we need to—”

“No, no, I’m fine, stop that! I just,” Hater quickly cut him off as he sat back and pulled at the collar of his robe, clearly agitated. “I, well,”

His voice dropped to a mutter as he looked off to the side of the bed, face still green from watching Wander.

“I wanna try too.”

Wander blinked but was fast to catch on, slipping a little closer and smiling through his light panting. “You, Y’do?”

“Yeah, you looked,” Hater quickly corrected himself. “ _It!_ Looked good.”

Wander giggled as he rubbed his cheek against Hater’s face, not without a kiss to his mouth. “That’s ‘cause it was, silly!”

“Y-yeah?” Again, Hater couldn’t concentrate on being boastful, or even the greatest in the galaxy when he was, what he figured, this turned on.

“Yeah, it felt good,” Wander playfully pawed at the front of Hater’s robe. “Y’really are a _sassy man_!”

“I’m not sassy!” Hater somewhat gathered his wits as he ran a hand along the back of Wander’s fur, glaring at him a little more playfully than he intended as he tried to find his confidence. “I’m—I’m sexy. The _sexiest_ in the galaxy, even!”

“A’course you are, sug,” Wander easily made his bravado melt away with one sultry look, voice husky, hand lowering down the front of Hater’s cloak, which was still tented by his erection. “Y’very, _very_ sexy, _Hatey-baby_ ,”

Hater wasn’t sure which made him jump and whimper: Wander’s hand rubbing his cock through his robe, a caress to one of his antennas or the very sudden use of a cute pet name.

The material of his boxers rubbing against his dick felt _good_ and Hater was afraid he was going to come before Wander even touched him.

“Oh _sweet_ Grop,” Hater was already shaking when Wander pet him delicately through his robe.

“Does this feel good?” Wander pressed a trail of kisses from his jaw to his mouth.

“Y-yes, _Grop_ , yes,” he admitted with ease, unable to pull the stupid smile from off his face, eyelids noticeably drooping. “do-not-stop-or-so-help-me-and-everything-evil-in-this-universe-you-will-invoke-the-wrath-of-a-thousand-fiery-suns, _please_!”

Wander giggled, successfully making Hater annoyed when he pulled his hand from off of him, giving the overlord a mischievously smile.

“Oh, but Hatey,” Wander was slipping off the bed and to the floor, making Hater swallow nervously. “I can make y’feel even better!”

The purr in Wander’s voice was convincing enough as he smiled up at Hater, hardly eye level with the edge of the bed with his smaller stature. “May I,”

Wander looked tentative as he gave a rub to Hater’s knees, but he could see the clear shine of desire in the Wanderer’s eyes. “Can I see it?”

The sound of Hater’s heart beat was nearly deafening, thudding heavily in his antennas. He was nervous—frightened, even—but he _did_ threaten Wander not to stop or he’d totally invoke the wrath of a thousand fiery suns. Truly, Hater swore to himself as a means of convincing, he couldn’t step back on a threat as grave as that, and besides—if Wander touching him through his clothes felt that good, his hands must have felt even better, right?

It had taken a few seconds for Hater to react to the will of his thoughts, but soon enough he felt himself reaching to hike up the edges of his cloak, till it was left pooling across his lap. In one of his favorite pair of boxers, decorated in the fiery skulls of a goat, sat Lord Hater’s erection, even more prominent than before, the soft, green glow illuminating the tent pitched in black cotton.

Hater went to reach for those next, slipping both thumbs under the hem of his underwear, until two furry hands stopped him in his tracks.

“Hatey, would it be too much t’ask,” Wander’s pupils were wide again by the time they met Hater’s face, cheeks a rusty red. “T’do the honors?”

Hater considered that maybe it would be for the best for Wander to do it, since he was positive he was shaking, from the tips of his fingers to his wrists. With a nod of permission, Hater watched Wander nod back in appreciation.

Wander wasn’t smiling, instead looking to be biting back a type of timid anticipation as he reached to tug down Hater’s boxers, and it strangely made him feel better.

After the quiet rustle of fabric, Hater felt a cool breeze, and he pulled his eyes shut once he was exposed. His boxers were down by his ankles for a full minute before he dared to look down.

Sitting in front of him, with his hands cupped over his mouth was Wander, eyes blown wide and shoulders hunched high, the unhindered glare of his erection illuminating the whole of the nomad’s face.

“H-Hatey!”

With Wander’s gasping, Hater feared the worst, caught between wanting to cry, yank his boxers up, tell Wander to get out before he could embarrass him any further—

“Hatey,” Wander sat himself straight as a means to get closer to Hater’s face, having to crane his neck to bring himself even somewhat past his dick. “When were y’gonna tell me y’were the _biggest_ in the galaxy, y’ _HUGE_!”

“Huh?” Hater felt like the air had been knocked straight out of him. “I, I am?”

“Heavens, yes!” He tried not to shrink back when Wander turned towards the subject in question, face once more illuminated by the glow his arousal.

“Oh,” Hater didn’t know what to say, and when Wander didn’t care to elaborate, he was unsure if he was complimenting him or not.

Well, he did it: he had exposed himself to Wander, yet he still felt the troubling tangle of confusion over if what Wander found between his legs was strange or not.

Hater looked down at his own erection, unable to meet Wander’s stare. “Y-you don’t think it’s weird, right?”

Wander was quickly on his feet as he pulled Hater close by the hollows of his cheek, mouth on his, fingers knotting tight in the hood of his robe.

“Goodness, no, Hatey!” Wander let out another low rumble from his throat once he pulled from off of his mouth, and Hater nearly purred himself when he fingered at one of his antennas.

“S’ _perfect_.”

Hater blinked in surprise when he met Wander’s face, taking in the way he chewed excitedly at his lip, the way his fur around his throat had fanned out at the edges again in a show of libido.

“R-really? You, you mean it?” Hater pressed his knees together shyly.

“Yes, a’course! Y’look good enough t’eat!” That made Hater’s cock twitch in a very tantalizing way. “Besides,”

Wander leaned close, hands sitting themselves on the bones of Hater’s thighs, mere inches away from his cock. Very aware of this, Hater began to sweat again, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and baring him from speech.

“Let’s jus’ say that one, good look at you might’a made m’spring a bit of a leak,” Wander giggled nervously. “For lack of better terms.”

Hater tried to understand what Wander meant, but the nomad was fidgeting before him, looking bashfully down at Hater’s lap, suddenly too occupied with it to meet Hater’s face.

“Whatcha mean?”

“Well, Hatey,” Wander tried again, tracing shapes with the tip of his finger along the bone of Hater’s leg. “ _Y’know_ ,”

“Uh, no?” Hater challenged with a frown, feeling all too exposed. “I _don’t_ know? Your new-age-hippie-lingo never makes sense to me and today is no different, so out with it already!”

“W-what ‘m tryin’ t’say Hatey is that,” Wander swallowed, still looking frazzled and aroused as he blinked up at Hater. “Y’made me a lil’wet?”

Still not initially understanding, Hater was about ready to snarl at Wander, not interested in playing games with his underpants around his ankles, but the realization of what Wander was trying to say hit him like a tidal wave.

“Oh?” Hater’s brow line raised high before his mouth fell open. “ _Ohhhhh_.”

Wander looked cute with his face so red, Hater decided, as the alien squeezed his thighs.

“I, I got wet with the kissin’ and y’touchin’ m’arousal too, but, well—s’not easy t’make me feel like that with jus’ a look alone!” Wander admitted, finally flashing Hater a more familiar look when he gave him a tiny smile. “S’ _impressive_ , Hatey.”

“Yeah?” Slowly but surely, Hater was feeling more confident, though he did pull nervously at his lone glove when Wander crawled back onto his lap.  
  
“Yeah,” Wander giggled as he straddled Hater’s legs, still looking timid as he mindfully raised himself from off Hater’s lap by his knees. “Do y’wanna see for y’self?”  
  
His bare hand twitched at Wander’s proposition, but before he could say ‘yes,’ Wander was already reaching for him, letting Hater’s fingers hover above the lips of his genitals. It took everything within Hater not to squirm and try to push up his finger, because without even pressing in, he could feel the warmth of Wander hot against his palm.

“Are,” Swallowing, Hater met his eyes, biting his lip in a silent plea of desire. “I can?”  
  
“Mmmmm, Hatey,” Wander was already using his free hand to pet at the head of Hater’s erection, successfully making him curl his toes into the insoles of his sneakers. “Y’didn’t say the magic word.”  
  
“Oh grop,” Hater was near pleading when he closed his eyes. “ _Please_.”

Unlike Hater, Wander wasn’t the type to make him beg, so within moments he was hit with a barrage of sensations: a furry hand stroking his cock, long, slow, and meticulous, and a sudden, soft wetness squeezing the length of his finger, the last drawing a low moan from Wander. Despite the lull in his brain, Hater realized just where his hand was: inside Wander, tight and wet, enough to make a squelching noise on entry, and Hater let out a moan himself.  
  
Hater forced his eyes open and was greeted by the sight of a very flushed Wander, the fur of his throat fluffy and billowy, his eyes rolled back and his body tense. Hater was already getting the familiar pull in his abdomen telling him he was close.  
  
“Holy _Grop_ , Hatey!” Wander was panting, eyes hardly sliding open as he rocked against his hand desperately. “Can you, will you— _please_ move y’hand, if, if it ain’t too much t’ask!”  
  
It had taken a moment for his arm to move, but eventually Hater’s brain passed the message, and he followed Wander’s request, mindfully gentle when he slipped his finger in and out. It was a little difficult, with Wander doing some touching of his own, but Hater had just enough presence of mind to take in the sight of Wander throwing his head back to gasp, could feel the little Wanderer tighten around him. With their size difference, Hater could tell by the strain of Wander’s inside that one finger alone was enough to make him stretch, but it didn’t seem to stop Wander. On the contrary, every slip inside him made him rock against Hater with a whimper.  
  
Hater knew he wasn’t going to last long, and it seemed that Wander knew it too. He was moving his hand faster, and before Hater could even announce that he was close, Wander’s mouth was on his, tongue pushing forward, hot, soft, and needy like the inside of his cunt.  
  
Hater didn’t even consciously spark Wander’s mouth, it sort of just happened, possibly a side effect of the energy building low in his guts. Wander didn’t mind, his insides tightening as he purred hard enough for Hater’s tongue to shake. Before he knew it, Hater was coming undone, finishing with a release of pent up static and come, head swimming well after Wander’s hand pulled off of him.  
  
“Hatey,”

Momentarily, Hater felt like he was underwater, because Wander sounded hazy in his post-coitus bliss, but the plunge of his finger deeper within him helped drag Hater back to the surface of reality.  
  
“Hatey, _please_ , ‘m close, ‘m so, _so_ , close!”

Wander looked as desperate as he sounded when he held Hater with both hands by the wrist, rutting against his hand, imploring with his eyes for Hater to continue. Too tired to rise from off his back, Hater at the very least reached up with his gloved hand to run it over Wander’s sensitive middle, careful to hit every one of the bumps under his fur with a spark, until Wander was shaking, crying out and soiling the whole of his glove.  
  
When come ran down the front of Wander’s cock, Hater grew curious, reaching with his free hand to test its consistency, surprised to find it much like his own. It was already sticking between his fingers by the time he remembered he still had his glove on.

“Ugh, gross.”

It lacked his usual fervor in his current state, but Hater couldn’t find himself to be annoyed, however he did wipe it along his sheets as a lazy means of cleaning it.

He could hear Wander panting when he pulled himself from off of Hater’s finger, and after a brief inspection, Hater realized his bare hand was wet with Wander’s come too, wiping it across his bed spread as well.  
  
Thighs shaking and breath coming out of him nearly in snags, Wander fell forward into Hater’s chest, making the skeleton grunt from the impact.

“ _Whoowee_ !” Wander’s audible relief was muffled by Hater’s robe. “Hatey, that was— _wow_!”

“Yeah,” Hater couldn’t believe it. He used to wonder if being touched by someone else was as life changing as others liked to make it out to be, but honestly, he felt no different. Was he still a skeleton? Check. Still undeniably handsome, intelligent, and rad? Check. Still the greatest in the galaxy? That was a _definite_ check.

He didn’t feel any different about himself, that was for sure.

He did, however, feel different about the furry, little weirdo now making goo-goo eyes from over his chest, arms stretching out to hug him about his rib cage.

Wander was still an annoying and handful hick, but Hater had to admit: he was a _very_ cute annoying and handful hick. Who wasn’t so unbearable to be around. At least in the moment.

Even though he sighed, Hater kept it in mind as he pulled the nomad from off of him to settle him into the crook of his arm instead, and to his relief, Wander took to his new spot without comment apart from a very satisfied purr.

And there they laid for a while, in silence, and Hater was happy to say, not uncomfortably so. Quite on the contrary, when Wander nudged himself along the pit of Hater’s arm, he didn’t shy away, didn’t twitch despite the prickle of his bangs against his arm. He felt strangely relaxed and settled, like couldn’t move an inch, and he only realized he was nodding off when Wander spoke up softly beside him.

“Hey Hatey,” Despite sounding tired, Wander was as hopeful as ever. “Did I make y’happy?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” The words rolled out easier than he wanted to admit. “Now shut up.”

And Wander did. Hater swore he could hear the soft snore of Wander’s of ‘ _me, me, me, me, me,_ ’ by the time everything turned black.

\---

When Hater woke up, he woke up alone.

Despite feeling well rested for the first time in weeks, he found himself feeling disappointed by the lack of Wander sleeping beside him.

He tried to convince himself that it didn’t _really_ bother him when he sat up to stretch, but yet he could feel himself pouting, arms crossing tightly over his chest. He didn’t know where that weird, little fuzzball got off.

He could see his boxers had been slipped up, and now both hands were free of his gloves, replaced by a fresh pair sitting left on his nightstand. A hasty glance over his room showed it was still immaculate, a true testament that Wander indeed was here. That they had sex. That the heaviness in Hater’s chest was because he sort of missed the little freak.

When Hater looked to his left, he soon discovered that he was, in fact, not alone, when he spotted his Commander stewing in anger beside him.  
  
“My Grop, what the!” In a tangle of blankets, Hater tumbled to the floor, successfully cocooned in his sheets once he rolled onto his back. “What the _HECK_ , PEEPERS! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME OR SOMETHING!?”

Climbing onto the bed, his Commander stood with his hands fisted at his sides, his glare piercing, the whole of his little form shaking from head to toe. Confused by Peepers silent rage, he was quick to remember how long he had been probably locked up in one of their prison cells. About to tell the little alien not to get his underwear in a twist, it was about then Hater realized in the dim lights of his bedroom, the massive amount of orange fur floating about the room. In his hasty fall to the floor, the collection of Wander’s shedding he had left behind on his blankets fluttered up into the air, only to fall in the perfect shape of a heart around a swaddled Hater.

“Sir,” Peepers tone made Hater shrink into the confines of the blankets he was currently wrapped in. “Anything you want to tell me? _Anything_ at all?”

“Uh, um,” Hater floundered, trying his best in a panic to undo himself from his sheets. “ _Me_ , have, have something to tell _you_?! _Nah_! Nope, not me, I was just sitting in here, lifting weights, playing video games, _totally_ not entertaining any stupid, ginger, wooly weirdos, not this nefarious, galactic dominator, at the very least, _nope_ , not at all!”

Peepers eyelid slitted dangerously, and Hater realized his third in command called his bluff, sweat gathering on his brow.  
  
“No, hm?” Peepers reached for one heart shaped cookie to inspect. “Wander wasn’t, say, in here tonight, spending it with _you_?”

“Wander!? In _here_?! What are you,” Hater feigned being offended. “ _Peepers_ ! H-he’s my greatest enemy in the whole, wide galaxy, why would he be in _my_ room, of all places?!”  
  
“I don’t know, sir,” Peepers still sounded positively peeved as he crumbled a cookie between his fingers. “But maybe _this_ gave me a hunch.”

From behind his back, Peepers pulled out a slip of paper, crinkled from his rage. Even so, Hater could recognize Wander’s polite and neat script in between the dips and wedges of crumpled looseleaf, as well as what was most certainly a phone number.

Hater looked between Peepers glare and the number in his hand a few times before he settled on a sheepish smile.

“So, uh, okay,” Hater started. “About Wander,”

“Maybe there is a thing or two I need to tell you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at least I got this done on the projected date, August 1st. I hope it was worth the wait! Now, the fourth chapter--
> 
> Let me just say that it may be longer than this, and considering that this was a total of 44 pages, well--you get the picture.
> 
> I have already hit 14 pages in the fourth chapter and it's not even scratching the surface, there is a ton of work to be done on it but I'm really, REALLY excited to show you what I have planned. Please, bear with me, stay par for the course, and I hope you like the idea as much as I like it!
> 
> Also let me add, it may or may not, depending on its size, be split into two chapters, bringing this story up to five chapters. And there will probably be a sixth, epilogue chapter, so, yeah, there's that.
> 
> Just--bear with me. I appreciate all you're putting up with thus far.
> 
> Things to look forward to in the next chapter(s):  
> ∙A pissed off Peepers  
> ∙A heart to heart between Hater and Peepers  
> ∙A heart to heart (not really) between Hater and Sylvia  
> ∙Wander being a fluffy cutie spoon  
> ∙More pissed off Peepers  
> ∙Some Blackeye Shenanigans  
> ∙Hater and Wander being romantical  
> ∙And last but not least, Hater having to plan his first date with the guy who has seen everything, and a lil' more smoochin' (;
> 
> I really think you guys are going to like that last one~!
> 
> And as always, feel free to talk to me on my [blog](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/), ask questions for the fic, for ships, the show, even just to shoot the shit.
> 
> Thanks dudes, till next time!


	4. Chapter Four: The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “UGH!” Hater shook his fists at the air as he dropped to his knees, shoulders sagging, feeling hopelessly caught between his feelings for Wander and his friendship for Peepers. “WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME ROMANCE WOULD BE SO _HARD_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’ll keep this shorter than the last time. Just want to give another shout out to y’all keeping up this far! Thanks for your comments, your kudos, your reblogs, your likes, and of course, your patience.
> 
> Just want to again thank my beta, [aloneindarknes7](http://aloneindarknes7.tumblr.com/). You’re the the best, my dude!
> 
> And I’d I want to say thank you so much to the lovely [pandashrine](http://pandashrine.tumblr.com/) for making not just [one](http://talentisapursuedinterest.tumblr.com/post/148332283277/spacecrunched-ur-fic-fam-im-dyin-redbubble-l) but [two](http://talentisapursuedinterest.tumblr.com/post/148873283872/you-wander-hater-was-more-than-eager-to-remind) lovely pieces for my fic! You’re the best, fam, I GUSH, your color game is matched by no other.
> 
> Now, without further ado~ Enjoy!

Funny thing about exploding planets.

It didn’t matter what the composition: molten rock, dirt, ice, sand, and depending on what stretch of the universe one found themselves in, diamond, quasi-solid liquids and your occasional sentient entity. When they went _boom_ , the remnants of their pieces would scatter in a cacophony, rock on rock, fire on fire, and in this galaxy’s case, lava on ice.

With the average planet being thousands of miles in diameter, there were a whole lot of pieces to send whirring out in their wake. Some debris were big enough to be planets in their own right, gaining a sufficient amount of momentum to form gravitational pulls, sucking smaller bits into orbit, and successfully creating moons.

Hater was glad that despite all the turmoil trying to figure out a way to stop said destruction, it was pretty cool watching the galaxy rebuild itself, too. Maybe it was the small smidgen of pride and distinction that like to follow hearing his new title of _savior of the galaxy_ ; Hater had stopped Dominator once and for all, he liked to think, single-handedly, through his sheer awesome power and awe inducing abilities as the _universe’s_ number one super star.

And, okay, Hater would confess to himself, and himself alone: _maybe_ Wander’s aforementioned flower he was so fond of gushing over had something to do with it, too.

Hater caught himself admitting mid day dream as he pointedly ignored Peepers ramblings that Wander’s sheer need to preserve some stupid flower had a big part in reconstructing the galaxy.

Whatever the species, it bred with a strain of super seed that pollinated itself surface to surface, stretching across the vacuum of space to plant itself into the cracks and craters of once destitute planets. Flourishing them with vibrant and life sustaining flora, people of all alien races were slowly but surely making their way across the galaxy to repopulate it once again. Families were moving back to rebuild and relive, rejoicing for a short while before the inevitable evil doer made their way back to devastate, dictate, and destroy. Peepers, ever a high achiever, saw the planets in their infantile stages of construction as the perfect opportunity to swoop in and get a head start on being number one on the Galactic Villain Leader board.

With the reforesting of planets and the creation of new ones, the amount of planets to conquer had since _doubled_ after Lord Dominator’s departure. From what Hater could pick up between glances of the meeting and his phone hidden on his lap, Peepers was making quick work to fill in their men about their next batch of schemes.

Determined as ever to keep on top of the Galactic Villain Leader Board, Peepers already had a careful set of meticulous plans in motion. Thanks to Lord Hater’s recent fame in the galaxy, some even touting him, much to Peepers chagrin, as ‘ _The Greatest Hero that ever Ransacked and Pillaged_ ,’ there was a new wave of Watchdogs signing onto the world domination cause, filling themselves in by the squad-fuls to make up an essential cog of loyal soldiers in the Lord Hater’s regime.

It was perfect, Peepers had told Hater. What could go wrong? Hater now had the adoration, the fear, a loyal army, and no pesky Dominator to deal with. With the recent turn of events in the galaxy, other so called empires and armies were stuck picking up the pieces of what was left behind, but not Hater’s. Hater’s army looked better than ever, boots polished, helmets fastened, eyes _way_ up.

But, there was one problem, and a massive one at that, in the figurative machine that was the single, greatest authority this galaxy over.

It was Wander, Hater thought.

Well, mainly, his _lack of problem_ he had with Wander.

It was kind of hard to hate the guy that Hater was, you know.

Crushing on.

It started off with a kiss, followed by a passionate evening in The Skull-Ship, and was then further supplemented by the exchange of phone numbers. It wasn’t like Hater made a point of memorizing Wander’s digits already or anything, _Cregxon_ area code included. And he _certainly_ didn’t have the love note that came along with it crinkled under his pillow for him to squeeze when his bed felt particularly empty, either.

Ditching the telecommunication device in his glove for something with a screen, Hater now had a phone to glare down at in annoyance, especially now that Wander was being so silent. Feeling more glum than he liked, Hater thought back to Wander’s love-letter he cherished on the nights he felt sore about being alone, hoping to find comfort in it now as well.

“ _Hiya Hatey-Baby_!” Hater inwardly snorted at the sound of Wander’s voice in his head; even within his internal dialogue, Wander still had that familiar southern twang. “ _I had a real lot of fun, I hope you did too! I’m really going to miss you! Don’t be too shy to shoot a text when you’re thinking of me! (;_ ”

Hater knew he did good when Wander left him a smiley face—who didn’t like smiley faces?—but the number signed neatly at the bottom gave him the real assurance he needed when it came down to how Hater did the last night they shared together on the Skull-Ship.

It was official: since the night he slept with Wander, Hater dubbed himself the greatest lover to ever grace this galaxy. When it came to romance, Hater felt that no motto could do him justice except for the aptly stated _Hate’s Great, Sex Fulfillin’_.

He _did_ make the little Wanderer come in a passionate toss of bone and fur, complete with hungry eyes and desperate pleading. Hater remembered the feel of Wander shaking above him, as well as the feeling of him shaking _around_ him, too, and the memory of Wander’s deep, pleasurable whimpers and moans were drowning out the rest of the chatter in the meeting.

Hater thought it best with the warmth gathering low in his robes that maybe recreating the whole scene in his mind wasn’t the best direction to head in while he tried to look inconspicuous sitting in the War Room.

After all, Peepers hadn’t caught on yet, but his sharp eye was sure to pick up on Hater’s slacking.

Hater again lamented that it was that goody-toe-shoe’s Wander’s fault. Maybe he’d pay attention better if the furball would just text him!

Carefully checking the screen of his cell phone every few minutes, Hater couldn’t see any recent messages in his inbox. Wander’s last text had been well over an hour and a half ago, and Hater was beginning to worry.

The living, breathing dustbunny loved to travel so much, over far reaches of the universe that even Hater wasn’t familiar with. With worlds unexplored, who knew what was lurking on their surfaces, and Hater could admit that well, he sort of worried for the little oddball, despite him showing a shockingly bizarre amount of luck and resilience. Unless Wander was texting him regularly, Hater had no idea where he was or what he was doing. At the very least, he took some comfort in knowing that Sylvia was there to keep him safe.

He couldn’t necessarily be too angry; Wander was fairly dutiful when responding to him. Actually, despite his flakiness, it was very rare for Wander to go over a few minutes when it came to getting back to him. It was making a pit gather in Hater’s stomach the longer he thought about Wander’s lack of response, and he tried to entertain himself by looking at their last past few messages.

‘ _your where_ ’ okay, so maybe grammar wasn’t Hater’s specialty; he tended to blame autospell.

‘ _Oh!'_ Wander liked to type proper, but Hater always read it with his typical drawl in mind. ‘ _I’m not sure if the place has a name, but it’s kind of rainy and humid. I’ve never been! It’s really exciting!_ ’

Hater fought not to roll his eyes at Wander’s usual enthusiasm, because quite frankly, he thought the new place sounded sticky and wretched. Much like the first time he read the message, he was struck with the sudden urge to ask Wander to come hang out with him on the Skull-Ship.

It seemed to be the start of a pesky habit for Hater:

Wander would tell him where he was, the fun places he was exploring, the people he was meeting. He’d even tell him about things as simple as like what he had made for lunch that afternoon, or what he had been pondering for the past ten minutes. Regularly, Wander would text Hater silly little quips that ranged from inner monologue to things as strange as, ‘ _what do you think came first, Hatey, the shell or the peanut?_ ’ Hater’s fingers would hover over the letters that spelt ‘ _what idk come to the skullship_ ,’ until they settled instead on another response or in the latter's case, ‘ _u r so flarping weird._ ’

From time to time, Wander would text how he missed Hater and was thinking about him, and once in awhile, usually when cuddled up to Tim in the middle of the night, Hater found himself admitting to the nomad that he missed him, too.

It didn’t help he hadn’t seen Wander since the fall of Lord Dominator, or more specifically, since he had picked up Hater’s mark from the last planet salvaged to race around in a game of capture the flag. He hadn’t been intimate with Wander since a week or so before that, and he was beginning to worry that maybe Wander didn’t like him as much as he originally thought, or worse:

Maybe _he_ liked Wander more than _Wander_ liked him.

‘ _No_ ,’ Hater told himself as he reopened their text message, but even his subconscious didn’t sound convinced. ‘ _How could he_ not _like me?_ ’

Wander, after all, was the first to start this whole mess with a proposition in The Smooch room. He was the one who made a point to last visit Hater, right?

Hater refused to believe that he was nothing more than a mere Wander… _booty-call_.

Yet now, as he sat staring at his last response in their text message and Wander’s lack thereof, his innards twisted with doubt. Why hadn’t Wander come back to see him?

‘ _that sounds awful,_ ’ was the last blurb in the message, by him of course, and Hater was beginning to panic. Did he hurt his feelings? Was Wander fond of the rain, maybe? He did have that tree-hugger vibe. Hater looked about the room, Peepers notes on the screen in front of him mixing into a blur of colors the more he worried.

What if he had flown there right now? Okay, Wander no longer was carrying a tracking device on him, but Hater was positive he could issue a few patrols squads to spread out to find Wander soon enough. Yeah, Hater convinced himself, to just check in and make sure Wander wasn’t mad at him, and that he was safe and sound, and maybe, just _maybe,_ Wander wanted to come back to the Skull-Ship and hang out—

Hater felt a vibration along his thigh and instantly he was entering the passcode to his phone. Forgetting to hide it under the ledge of the table in his relief, Hater brought the screen close to his face in anticipation, blinking when he was greeted by an image.

The first was Wander, bangs sopping in his eyes, hair tangled from the moisture in the atmosphere. His hat was hanging forward and by the looks of it, drenched, as he blew a kiss towards the camera. Despite looking a bit like a wet mop, Hater couldn’t help but think he was cute, and his initial worry ebbed away.

‘ _Sorry for the wait, Hatey, got caught in a bit of a monsoon!_ ’ With the way the rain tilted on its side, Hater could see that, and he couldn’t help but feel concerned again.

Up until he saw the next picture of Sylvia covered in mud and wet leaves, looking absolutely miserable.

Before Hater could stop himself, he began to laugh uncontrollably, like he wasn’t sitting in the midst of an important meeting. One that, as far as Commander Peepers was concerned, he was supposed to be paying attention to.

Every eye fell on Hater as he pointed down at the screen in a fit of laughter, tears beading in the corners of his eyes as he nearly collapsed back in his chair.

“Sir,” Hater couldn’t see well past the comical leak of his eyes but Peepers terse tone told him he was indeed unhappy. “If you don’t mind, I was in the middle of explaining—”

“I, I know, hold on, it’s just,” Hater fought to catch his breath, but a quick look back at his phone had him successfully bellowing again. “ _BWAHAHA_ , you _NEED_ to see this picture Wander sent me Peepers, it’s an absolute riot!”

The two Watchdogs closest to Hater’s sides leaned over to get a look, one pointing down at the screen with a flat yet amused ‘ _heh_.’

“Pffft,” Hater nudged the nameless cadet with his shoulder, nearly knocking the poor Watchdog forward. “I know, just look at the Zbornak’s face, she looks even _dumpier_ than usual, c’mon am I right or am I right—”

“Sir,” Peepers voice sounded low and dangerous, remote in his hand squeezed tight as he shut the screen behind him off. “I’d like to postpone this meeting for a later date, if you will; I need to speak to you.”

Despite not being outwardly angry, Hater could tell Peepers was swallowing down his fury for something more cold and collective, no doubt upset over Hater’s little interruption.

“Ugh, come on, Peepers,” Hater rolled his eyes. “I’ll put my phone away, I’ll give you my full, undivided attention—”

“ _Sir_!” After his abrupt exclamation, Peepers sighed and lowered his head, hands flat on the top of the table, squeezing at the collection of his notes scattered about. “ _Please_?”

Hater blinked at his commander in surprise, as did the Watchdogs, who didn’t need to be told twice. Exchanging nervous looks, the troops gathered their things and shuffled quietly out of the room, one murmuring loud enough to catch Hater’s antenna.

“He really does got it bad,” said the Watchdog to another, who responded with a hand on his comrade's shoulder.

“Yeah,” he whispered before the door slid closed behind them. “And Peepers is _tiiiiicked_.”

The air of the War Room was thick enough to cut with a knife, Hater uncomfortable with Peepers silence. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he thought it best not to reach for it as Peepers sat across from him at the table, gathering his papers in front of him, purposefully not looking in Hater’s direction.

“He’s changing you.”

“Oh, Grop, Peepers,” Hater sighed as he sprawled himself backwards in his seat, limbs lazily dangling from the arms of his chair. “Don’t start this again—”

“And you know it!” Peepers pointed a finger in his direction when he stood abruptly, slamming the accusing digit back onto a stack of his forms. “This plan had all of your favorites, Lord Hater: state of the art death ray, portable flame throwers, fully automatic sword-chuckers. I even managed to somehow, in the midst of a planned battalion, to throw in those little empanada’s you like so much, _anything_ to get your flarping attention and you just—it’s him! It’s always about _him_ now, isn’t it?!”

Hater sighed and scooted his chair back, swiveling on its axis from left to right as he stared exasperated at the ceiling. Ever since admitting to Peepers that yes, maybe Wander and he had hooked up and _yes_ , maybe they liked to talk on the “ _reg_ ,” Peepers had been on his case about the nomad.

If Peepers wasn’t talking about plans for galactic domination, he was harping on Hater’s lack of attention instead, more specifically Wander’s role in what he claimed was a serious lack of focus. Hater was positive Peepers spoke about Wander just about as much as he did now, if not more.

Peepers’ endless complaints were annoying, because of course, his commander had a knack for being right, and the circumstances with Wander were no different; didn’t mean Hater wouldn’t try to deny it.

“Pfft, it’s not _that_ bad, Peepers,” Hater tried, but a quick assessment of his commander shaking in fury at the end of the table told him that Peepers finally reached his tipping point.

“Not that bad?!” Peepers chair screeched as he pushed it out from behind him, looking surprisingly imposing despite his small stature. “You’re _obsessed_ sir, and I don’t mean in the way you used to be obsessed with that pesky weirdo, Lord Hater, I mean in the way that you’re constantly talking about him, his adventures, the pictures he sends you, his completely stupid stories and questions—”

“Well, I,” Hater was faltering, because as he sat there trying to find proof of Peepers exaggeration, he was coming up flat. As of recently, he found himself glued to his phone; his favorite part of the day was when he found an alert on the device from his supposed greatest enemy. “ _Obsessed_ is a little strong, Peepers—”

“ _Strong_?!” Peepers screech made Hater recoil in his spot. “You have been all consumed with that little freak since day one, sir, but never in my wildest dream did I think you’d get this carried away! I should have known,” Peepers lamented as he paced back and forth beside him.

“I should have seen it coming, he was planting the seeds of friendship so he could root himself in your all too vulnerable heart. He’s planning something, sir—”

Hater was gradually getting annoyed, and worried—he wondered if he sounded this crazy when he was paranoid over Wander’s intentions. “Peepers—”

“He, he knew you were easy sir, prone to flights of fancy when it came to romance—”

Successfully bristled, Hater gritted his teeth, fisting his hands against the table. “ _Peepers_ —”

“Hatred leads to obsession, obsession leads to love, he’s trying to make you a good guy, _I should have known!_ ” Peepers mourned as he dropped to his knees in front of Hater, pulling at his robes. “I have failed you, I HAVE FAILED TO KEEP YOU SAFE FROM HIS PSYCHO-FRIENDSHIP-VOODOO, HOW COULD I DO THIS!?”

“Grop, Peepers,” Hater looked about the room in mortified anger as his commander began to sob into the edges of his cloak, standing and pulling away in an attempts to keep Peepers at bay. “Can you get yourself together?! What if someone comes in here!”

“I’m sorry sir, it’s just,” Peepers was pink and bloodshot already as tears poured over his eyelid like a leaky sieve.

“You were right all along! He, he wanted to _Wanderize_ you, using his stupid songs and, and rainbows, and baked goods and his insane happy-go-lucky-gobbily-gook!”

Peepers voice was nasally with emotion as he impersonated Wander. “‘Never hurts to help, _fellers_ , oh, we’re all becoming the best of friends, _buddies_ , oh, you’re so cute and _LITTLE_ , MISTER PEEPERS!”

Chest heaving in between sobs, Peepers began to twist at the edge of Hater’s robe in resentment, as if they were the Wanderer’s neck itself.

“I thought you were being irrational, brash, all those years ago—I realized that he shouldn't have been taken lightly, I knew he liked to mess with our plans but I didn’t think he’d stoop this low. You’d think I’d learn from our mistakes in the past caused from that fuzzy menace, but, but I thought not you, Lord Hater, could fall victim to the helper-rhetoric but flap, was I wrong,”

“He,” Peepers shuddered from head to toe, rearing up from the floor to stare up at Hater in disbelief. “He _wooed_ you, sir, don’t you see!? After all these years of trying to wear you down with his idiocy, he _wooed_ you to the side of good with his… _willies_! How—how can I compete with that?!”

Hater, successfully turned green by the end of Peepers rant, was just short of yelling. “Are you quite finished?! _Jeez_ , did I always sound this crazy when it came to Wander, why didn’t anyone tell me!?”

His commander’s eye flew open wide in shock and offense before he waved his hands wildly, jumping up in desperation.

“Me, your commander, _Peepers!_ Has been telling you for _years_ , sir, and I thought you weren’t listening, but I get it now, I really do!”

“He’s up to something, I just know it,” Peepers sounded on the edge of hysterics. His eye, pink from his tears, narrowed in paranoia as he rubbed his hands together. “But we can undo this, we can make this go away!”

Hater sighed as he flopped into his chair, letting Peepers walk back to his side of the table as he took out a sheet of paper.

“Lasers, death rays, and hyper-drones,” Peepers was scribbling desperately across pieces of looseleaf as he thought out loud. “Wander’s far too simple for weapons of mass evil, he can’t comprehend them, let alone be captured by them, how could I be so blind?!”

“We’ve been thinking _too_ big this whole time, sir,” Peepers informed his leader, either oblivious or intentionally ignoring the look of pity on Hater’s face. “But I got it—I  _finally_ have the perfect plan to capture your greatest enemy, Lord Hater, and it’s _too_ stupid not to work!”

Slapping his plans onto a projector, Peepers turned on the machine with a whirr of a fan, illuminating the screen with a hastily drawn diagram.

Peepers plans were comprised of a crate propped up by a tree branch, with a piece of string tied firmly around said branch to form an easy, yet classic, box-and-stick trap. Beneath the box was a piece of lettuce, obvious bait for Wander. Drawn in the corner was, considering how fast Peepers had drawn it, a rather detailed image of his commander with a tied up Sylvia propped under his foot.

With Wander’s transparency and natural curiosity, Hater had to admit that it _was_ too stupid not to work. Yet despite the validity of Peepers’ idea, Hater didn’t find the same fire in his chest that trying to capture Wander once produced.

Opening his mouth to speak, Lord Hater hesitated. He took in the disheveled sight of his commander, and he was hit with a serious wave of deja vu. Apart from the lack of Watchdogs, it was similar to Hater’s attempts in the conference room those few weeks ago, only this time, it was Peepers on the end of Hater’s confusion. Well, there was also a serious lack of nipples, but that was besides the point.

It wasn’t the first time Peepers had been reduced to a distraught, teary mess over Wander and Hater’s antics, looking tired and desperate for his attention and approval, but it was the first time the sad, longing look in his eye had made something in Hater feel… awful.

“Peepers,” Hater tried, without malice this time. “Is this—are you _jealous_?”

“Because, look,” Unease was clear on Hater’s face as he shook his head. “If this is your weird way of telling me you’re in _love_ with me or something—”

“ _What_?” Peepers was quick to interrupt incredulously. “What the—no, Lord Hater, _no_ ! Please, sir, you’re _way_ too high maintenance for me,” He murmured as he wiped his teary eye along his sleeve. “No offense.”

“I’m _what_!?” Hater was taken back, grimacing down at his commander, who ignored his outrage as he made his way back around the table.

“Normally, I’d say I don’t care who you’d date, sir, but really, _him_?” Peepers looked more in awe now than sorry as he stood beside him. “ _Wander_?! He’s against everything we believe in! He’s annoying, a kook and a total freak, his accent is absolutely horrendous—”

“Hey!” That was the last insult Hater was going to take as he slammed an electrical fist down on the table. “That’s _my_ annoying, kooky freak, Peepers, ease off him a bit!”

“Yes, okay,” Hater paused. “He’s—he’s eccentric,”

“‘ _Eccentric,'_ sir?” Peepers repeated flatly.

“But, I dunno,” Hater felt his face turn hot, finding it hard to look Peepers in his eye, instead focusing on rolling a pencil across the table in a means of avoiding it. “He’s not _that_ bad. Okay, yeah, he’s totally weird, I’ll give you that, but, I dunno, he’s—he’s growing on me a little?”

“Besides,” With huff, he tried to look determined, even with a blush on his face, as he looked up at Peepers. “I find his voice kinda cute.”

Peepers crossed his arms, unconvinced as he narrowed his eye.

“Look, Lord Hater, if,” Peepers took a breath in what looked like an attempt to hold back a shiver, voice calm and analytical. “If it’s a _sex_ thing—”

Hater was officially green in the face. “It’s not a sex thing, Peepers! Grop, can you make the word ‘ _sex_ ’ sound anymore gross and embarrassing, ugh!” Shaking his hands in disgust, Hater geared himself back onto their initial conversation. “Is it so hard to believe I like him a little bit!?”

Peepers eye grew wide in disbelief before narrowing again.

“Um, _yes_!? We’re talking about the same transient weirdo, right!?” With a scoff, Peepers stepped forward, gesturing angrily into the air. “About yay high, shaggy, full of sunshine and posies, a complete nuisance! Your _greatest enemy_ , may I remind you?!”

“Yeah, well—”

“Excuse me,” Peepers cut him off, his temper effectively raised. “Where is Lord Hater and what did you do with him, because the Hater _I_ know would gladly lampoon him _and_ destroy him by any means necessary, may I add!”

Hater felt himself quaking with rage by the time he stood up, sending his chair backwards from the force of it, lightning twisting along the lengths of his arms.

“I _am_ Lord Hater, the _one and only_ , the galaxy’s number one superstar and having a fuzzy, strange hippie for a boyfriend doesn’t change that! I’m _still_ awesome, I’m _still_ the greatest, and I could _still_ wipe the floor with any opposers or naysayers, _you_ included!”

Realizing that Peepers was beginning to quiver in fear beneath him, Hater eased off with a deep breath, letting his anger fall away into something more akin to annoyance.

“And, well!” Sounding insulted, Hater crossed his arms and stuck his chin into the air, daring Peepers to defy him. “People _change_ , Peepers, ever think of that in that big, ol’ brain of yours, _hmmmmm_?”

It was a full minute till Hater realized the idiocy of his smugness.

“Oh,” Hater blinked as he thought over his answer. “Okay, maybe—that doesn’t count, we didn’t say no-givesies-backsies—I, I didn’t think out that argument the whole way through!”

“Aaaand we come full circle,” Peepers sighed as he slumped back to his seat, sagging as he stared up at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Great, sir, just great! I’m glad we both agree that he’s changing you, but we’ve gotten nowhere.

“You have a brand new galaxy to conquer, Watchdogs throwing themselves at your feet to serve in your army, and no opposing villain to defeat. Yet here we are, with no new planet to call our own, and _why_?” Peepers hissed, pointing a finger across the table.

“Because you’d rather be with Wander,” Hater felt his heart twist painfully in his ribcage at the weight of Peepers word. “And _you know it_ , sir, but you’re too scared to admit it because you’re embarrassed! You’ve succumbed to Wander! Wander _won_ , and now you’re going to revert to the side of good, go by a new name, join some whacky, hick jam band and start a new, happy life with Wander and the Zbornak!”

Hater felt his face fall at the accusation, the ship’s walls suddenly too close, the oxygen in the room too faint. Peepers was right, he was scared to admit it—but he was right for all the wrong reasons.

“What about you?” Hater tried, brow squeezing together, his frown turning into something more concerned than angry.

Peepers helmet was now on the table as he massaged his eyelid in frustration. “What _about_ me, sir?”

“Well,” Hater felt strangely small in that moment, which was funny considering Peepers was just over two feet. “Will you leave?”

Peepers opened his eye, doing a double take as he looked to be processing Hater’s words. “ _What_?”

“Say if I did want to run off with Wander and the Zbornak,” Hater challenged, turning to face away from Peepers as he hugged himself close. “Would you follow or leave?”

“Would I,” Peepers raised his shoulders as he gestured at the air in confusion, palms flat, eyelid tight in the corners. “Are you _really_ asking me if I’d drop everything we worked on for so long to gallivant with Wander and you across the galaxy?

“Even if I could, that, that wouldn’t be possible!” Peepers huffed in annoyance as he began to jot across a page of looseleaf. “The Watchdogs’ would have to be discharged and have their pensions settled, we’d have to account for all of your assets, make sure we have enough money to sustain somewhat of a normal life—gas, rations, hot water—and what about the Skull-Ship? It takes a lot to maintain, sir! I’m sorry if these cut into your plans with your _little hippie boyfriend_ but these are just the facts!”

A quick glance over Hater’s shoulder revealed Peepers already trying to calculate the numbers, looking irked as he rubbed the head of his eraser along his eyelid, going back and forth between scribbling and calculations. Of course, Peepers had to get all technical, and it was frustrating to Hater that he wasn’t getting to the crux of the real issue.

“This is why.” Hater huffed as he picked his chair up from off the floor, tumbling into it with a stubborn frown.

“Now what, sir?” Peepers sighed as he slammed his pencil down, shaking his head at his boss’ behavior.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you!” Hater snarled across the table. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you back in the conference room, all those weeks ago! Because I knew you’d get mad, I knew you’d pull some, ‘ _but sir, how_ could _you sir, it’s_ Wander _, sir!_ ’”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Peepers rolled his eye as he pulled his helmet back on. “Lord Hater, sir, you didn’t want to tell me because you were embarrassed over that whole nipple-blunder!”

“THAT WAS AN EASY MISTAKE AND YOU KNOW IT!” Hater screamed, infuriated.

“WITH ALL DO RESPECT, _SIR_!” Peepers yelled back across from the room, slamming his own fists down in anger. “ANYONE WHO KNOWS BASIC ANATOMY COULD ASSUME THOSE WERE HIS NIPPLES!”

After a roar of thunder, a flash of green lightning struck the table dead center, sending papers scattering, coffee mugs flying, and pencils whizzing through the air like projectiles. Peepers had to duck to avoid getting hit dead center in the eye with a pen. With Hater huffing and puffing in rage on the other side of the room, he decided to stay kneeled on the floor, timidly peeking from over the edge of the table as a means of hiding.

“Okay, YES, _MAYBE_ I FLARPED THAT UP, and, _SURE_ , I was embarrassed but my point still stands!”

Hater was making his way around and Peepers immediately regretted talking back as he was scooped up by the front of his uniform.

“Sir!—”  
  
“No, DON’T YOU ‘ _SIR’_ ME, PEEPERS!” Hater gave him a good shake before pointing a finger down at his eye. “I wanted to tell you, I really did, Peepers, but _YOU_ cut me off because _YOU_ didn’t want to hear it! You—you were willing to let me SUFFER IN SILENCE because it _inconvenienced_ you and _your_ plans for galactic conquest—”

“Sir, that’s,” Peepers wilted in Hater’s hand, the corners of his eyelid turning downwards in hurt. “That’s just not true!”

“Oh?! Are you _sure_!?” Hater’s hand coursed with electricity, the skeleton seeing red from his emotions. “Or is it because _never in your wildest dreams could you see me with Wander_ , hm?!

“Wanna know a little secret, Peepers?! Wander and me didn’t just smooch that night in my bedroom!” Hater paused, looking momentarily sheepish through his anger. “Well, alright, we did a lot of smooching and, and maybe some other things, but—okay, that’s not the point!

“The point is, is that Wander said flat out he doesn’t want to change me, and you know what?!” Hater pushed Peepers back into his chair, sending his helmet askew on his head. “I believe him! Call him weird, call him stupid and annoying but he isn’t a liar, Peepers, and you darn well know it!

“He told me he didn’t want to change me, that he would like me no matter who I was, and what I did and—and I believe him!” Hater’s voice quivered, turning away when his tears were getting the better of him.

“Look,” Hater crossed his arms, convoking up the little bravery he had left in him when he starting speaking about his feelings. “I really _like him_ like him, Peepers, and I wanna be with him. When we talk? Sure, he’s—well, he’s Wander, but he makes me feel _good_ , like I could conquer a hundred planets if I wanted to!”

“But,” Peepers finally spoke up, refusing to look at Hater, seemingly more focused on his boots. “But you don’t want to conquer planets anymore.”

“Ugh, I didn’t say that!” Hater snapped back angrily, eyes growing bloodshot from wetness and anger. “Grop, Peepers, for being such a huge nerd-brainiac, you keep missing the point!”

“Then what is your point, sir!? That you  _like_ like Wander!? That he makes you feel better than conquering plants does, than _I_ do!?” Peepers challenged, and that sucked almost all the anger from out of Hater. _Almost_.

“No!” Hater pulled at his antennas before he threw his hands out in front of him in frustration. “No, I wasn’t trying to say that, this is _exactly_ why I hate talking about feelings!”

In small fit of rage, Hater gathered up the little papers left in front of him to toss them defiantly on the ground. Feeling emotionally drained, Hater let his hands hang listlessly at his side before rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

“Grop, I am getting soft,” Hater sighed as he leaned up against the table, shaking his head in weariness. All he wanted to do about now was curl up in his blanket with Tim Tim and never come out. “He really _has_ changed me, hasn’t he?”

Hater took Peepers hard stare and silence as an agreement, and the overlord’s temper returned tenfold. Without warning, Hater stood abruptly, pulling at the table with a growl of fury, expecting to send it tumbling across the room. Instead, no matter how much strength he put behind it, Hater was met with a serious amount of resistance as he audibly strained.

“Sir,” Peepers sounded tired himself as he pushed his chair out. “We bolted down the tables a few months ago after the last time you tried to throw one, remember?”

“Oh, flarp, are you—are you kidding me!?” Hater huffed in annoyance, snarling before giving it a good kick at its base. “Stupid table!”

“UGH!” Hater shook his fists at the air as he dropped to his knees, shoulders sagging, feeling hopelessly caught between his feelings for Wander and his friendship for Peepers. “WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME ROMANCE WOULD BE SO _HARD_?!”

A situation like this was exactly what Hater was looking to avoid whenever Peepers would throw him dirty looks in the mess hall or during strategy meetings when Hater would be smiling, laughing, or commenting down at his phone. He could recognize that his avoidance was probably the exact reason this conversation quickly blew up into a messy disaster of conflicting opinions and yelling between his commander and he.

“Well,” With a sigh, Peepers moved across the room towards one of the Skull-Ship’s massive windows. “It has been said that all is fair in love and war.”

“Yeah, and who said that, the proverbial ‘ _they_?’” Hater murmured under his breath as he stood, glowering sideways at the table. “Cause I’m really starting to hate those guys.”

“Sir,” Hater looked in Peepers direction briefly at the hesitance in his voice. “Do you remember the first night we saw Dominator’s ship?”

Peepers sounded distant and pensive as he stared out through one of the Skull-Ship’s eyes, fingers laced behind his back, looking so undeniably small against the starry, backdrop of space.

“Pfft, yeah,” Hater said as he continued to try and peel the table from off the ground, glaring down at the nuts bolted into the floor with hatred. “How could I forget, you were gushing over all her cool, fancy, high tech equipment.”

“ _Yeeeeeah_ ,” Peepers trailed off as he shyly looked over his shoulder at him, Hater catching onto his verbal weariness. “About that, sir.”

Peepers clear uneasiness snagged Hater’s attention as he looked over at his commander, raising a curious eye ridge.

“Well,” Peepers turned away from the window to face Hater, eye scrunched, looking openly nervous. “At the time, seeing all that machinery, seeing her successfully take hold of that planet—it sort of had me thinking. It was when Wander and your antics were in full swing and you really were taking some serious hits to the Galactic Villain Board,”

“Yeah, and?” Hater snorted as he flicked one of the few pencils remaining on the table to the floor. “Wander was being annoying, I wanted to destroy him, and you were getting mad— _yadda yadda yadda_ , the status quo.”

“Yes, the status quo I was quickly getting tired of,” Peepers reminded him with a slight glare. “And maybe, after feeling a little underappreciated,” He said with strain. “I may, have, I dunno,”

Peepers coughed nervously, speaking quietly as he reluctantly looked towards the ground. “Drafted up my resignation papers.”

Hater blinked in disbelief at Peepers with wide eyes before his face twisted in scorn.

“You,” It was like the wind had been knocked from right out of him. “You _what_?”

“I felt like you gave me no choice, sir!” Peepers defended as he finally looked back at Hater, shaking his hands out in front of him desperately. “You were losing the empire, you were ignoring our plans for conquest, you weren’t even thinking about gaining planets anymore, sir, it was all about Wander! Even then I could see what he was doing to you, how he was manipulating you, trying to _change_ you!”

Peepers’ anger showed in his voice as he curled his fingers into tiny fists. “You refused to listen to me, Lord Hater sir, and I saw all the time, the hard work, the dedication that Lord Dominator had put into her ship and her robots and I just—I didn’t want to watch you and Wander’s stupid game of cat and mouse anymore! I wanted to conquer, I wanted to rule, _I_ wanted to _DOMINATE_!

“I was sick of being ignored! I was sick of being in the background, being your sidekick, making these plans for you, perfectly evil plans that you tossed away or worse, _RUINED_ , all because of that detestable hairball!”

Peepers was panting by the time his rant was finished, hands shaking as he fixed his helmet on his head, carefully clearing his throat and straightening out his uniform.

“I was tired, sir. Frustrated. And I kept the forms sitting in my room for a little while, contemplating the answer.”

Even with his shoulders set high and him refusing to look in the skeleton’s direction, Hater could see a tinge of guilt in Peepers eye as he stared off, as if the floor was more interesting to look at than his quickly wilting boss.

“Peepers,” Hater didn’t know what to say.

He knew he wasn’t exactly ‘ _overlord-of-the-year_ ’ material, let alone a somewhat decent friend when he really let himself get twisted up in his ego. Yes, he had lamented earlier over Peepers refusal to accept his hypothetical of joining Wander, Sylvia and he traipse the galaxy together as a band of mismatched misfits, but even then, he honestly didn’t think Peepers really had it in himself to leave him. Hater was doused with a cold bucket full of reality as he stood there, feeling hurt over Peepers admission.

“Well!” Peepers defended himself, crossing his arms as he turned away from Hater, facing the window again. “I obviously didn’t go through with it, sir, now did I!?”

“B-But you still thought about it!” Hater turned away as well, making his way across the other side of the table. Sitting himself back in his chair, Hater drew his legs up to hug them, upset as he hid his face behind his boney knees.

“I’m destined to die alone, aren’t I?” he murmured, more to himself than Peepers.

“Now, sir,” Peepers sighed as he shifted around to face him again. “You’re getting a little carried away—”

“Don’t make me choose!” Hater started to sniffle into the confines of his cloak, shoulders shaking as he choked back a wail. “You can’t make me choose, Peepers, it’s just, it’s not fair!

“If you go, who, who is going to take care of the Skull-Ship, huh!? I can barely manage changing the oil, who is gonna make sure the lease is paid and that we renew the registration!? And the Watchdogs, were you just—you were just going to leave them behind!?”

Giving a sigh at Hater’s dramatics, Peepers cautiously made his way back towards Hater’s side of the table. “Sir—”

“You can’t go!” Hater said, sounding more like a stubborn child than a fearless overlord. “I’m your boss, and I said so, or you’re fired! _AGAIN_!”

Hater pulled his face from off his legs to reveal his eyes were leaking, hardly ashamed to cry in front of Peepers. “If you quit, Peepers, so help me, you are _fired_! You’ll never work in the evil henchmen business again! If, if you try to take one single planet as your own, I’ll be there, meddling around, ruining your plans,” Hater took a deep breath as a means of composing himself, but it was in vain as his voice cracked. “DOING STUFF! _ANNOYING_ STUFF!”

“So,” Peepers deadpanned at Hater, tapping his foot against the floor in apparent aggravation. “You’d essentially pull a Wander on me?”

Hater hesitated, eyes going wide at the realization of his words, until he broke out in a fresh wave of loud sniveling.

“P-PEEPERS!” A fountain of tears showered out from the corners of Hater’s eyes as he sobbed openly in the War Room. “Y-YOU CAN’T MAKE ME CHOOSE, OKAY?! I CAN’T LOSE YOU PEEPERS, WANDER IN MY LIFE OR NOT!”

Peepers rolled his eye at Hater’s antics, careful to step out of the stream of his tears before his whole uniform got soaked.

“Sir,” Peepers pulled his chair over to sit closer to Hater’s side once the skeleton decided to cry into his knees. “Do you want to know what made me change my mind?”

Raising his head only enough to show Peepers his wide, teary eyes, Lord Hater nodded tentatively, still nervous to hear what his commander had to say.

“It was when we couldn’t find you after your trip to the dentist,” Peepers sighed as he looked up at the ceiling ruefully. “After you went off with, of course, who else, Wander.”

“Even after the fact you decided to list _him_ as your emergency contact—”

“Okay, low blow, that was an accident!” Hater added hastily, frowning up at Peepers before hiding his face back against his knees.

“When the Watchdogs and I were looking halfway across the galaxy to find you, when the dentist wasn’t coming up with answers and I heard you had taken about a thousand volts of electro-squid to the face,”

“When I found out that you were with Wander and we weren’t coming up with any leads,” Peepers rubbed a hand over the surface of his helmet. “I really started to worry.”

“Y-you did?” Hater looked up again shyly from his legs.

“Sir, of course! I knew what the little freak show was capable of, for all I knew, he had whisked you away to some uncharted part of the universe and was making you perform sing-alongs and string bead art,” Peepers murmured as he pulled his helmet from off his head.

“I thought about the real possibility that you’d never come back. That you were done with evil, that Wander had finally won and was going to steal you away from the infamous Lord Hater Empire and all of the hard work that I,” Peepers drew in a long breath. “ _We_ worked on.”

“Then, well,” Peepers looked up with a bit of sadness crinkling his eyelid. “Then I really thought about it and realized that none of those things really mattered—what was the Lord Hater Empire without Lord Hater—what was more important was that you were safe, back here, with us on the Skull-Ship.”

Peepers fell momentarily silent, and it was only when Hater looked up did he realize he was pensively staring out across the table.

“And that’s when I knew I didn’t care if you were running around with Wander or not, I just didn’t want to lose you from my life.”

Peepers looked Hater in the eyes before he shyly fixated himself on the ground.

“We were best friends, I didn’t want to quit my job. Even if I broke off to form a league of evil on my own, where would the fun in that be, if I couldn’t do it with you?”

“Really?” Hater blinked, his tears finally subsiding to only a glossiness in the eyes. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Nope,” Peepers traced an ‘ _x_ ’ across his chest. “Swear it on everything that’s awful, heinous and evil.”

“Eventually we found you, and I remember going back to my bedroom, the papers sitting on my dresser. I asked myself if I still felt any different about wanting to stay here on The Skull-Ship, acting as your commander, despite there not being much to command anymore.”

Peepers used his elbow to carefully polish the bolt sitting on top of his helmet as he averted Hater’s gaze. “I realized that, in the end, even if we were dragging on the tail end of the Galactic Villain Leader Board, we were doing it together, as the most sinister duo in the galaxy. So I threw them out.”

Finally, although smiling uncertainly, Hater was feeling somewhat better since the start of the whole conversation.

“Only for you to fire me,” Peepers said tersely, clearly looking unhappy as he frowned in Hater’s face. “A few days later.”

“Ooh, when I fired you, _yeeeeeeah_ ,” Back to feeling a little guilty, Hater drew his knees tighter as he sheepishly smiled over at him. “Probably wasn’t my brightest idea.”

Peepers grunted and rolled his eye as he pulled his helmet onto his head, sinking into the back of his seat with an unamused frown.

“Kind of forgot about that story,” Peepers admitted, though he sounded very much reluctant. “Amongst the chaos of finding about Wander and you.”

“Yeah, well,” Hater couldn’t help but frown as he sat his chin on the edge of his knees. “Way to forget, Peepers. Maybe it would have saved us yelling at each other for over twenty minutes.”

A few moments of silence made Hater antsy, and from the looks of it, Peepers too, as he squirmed in the confines of his seat.

“Is this the part where you admit, I dunno,” Hater let his hood fall over his eyes, as if hiding behind it would save him from his own apology. “That you were _wrong_ about Wander?”

“I’m not wrong about Wander, sir,” Peepers said matter of factly, not without displeasure in his voice, as Hater peeked from out of his robe with a grimace.

“Although,” With an unwilling sigh, Peepers twiddled his thumbs, staring remorsefully down at his feet. “Maybe I’ve been a little brash.”

“A _little_?” Hater narrowed his eyes in his direction.

“Look, I stand by what I said about you _gushing_ over him all the time, meaning you no disrespect sir, it’s gross!” Peepers looked noticeably ticked before he settled back into his seat. “But,”

“I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon, Lord Hater, if that’s what you’re asking from me,” Peepers grumbled as he glared off to the side in a clear show of displeasure. “Whether Wander is mucking up the place or not.”

Hater’s face noticeably softened as he sat up from his knees, feeling a little lighter in the bones at Peeper’s assurance. If Hater said that he wasn’t even a little worried over Peepers’ reaction or approval, he’d be lying—not that he planned on admitting it to his commander, of course.

“Well, good!” Hater wiped his nose against his glove as he composed himself, refusing to acknowledge the tears making his eyes feel tired. “‘Cause, y’know—like I said, you quit, you’re fired.”

“Duly noted.” Peepers decided not to point out his flawed logic.

“So, considering I’m not leaving,” Peepers peeled a piece of looseleaf and pencil from off the floor, not without a frown. “And that galactic domination is taking a backseat—”

Just like that, Hater reverted back to feelings of outrage “ _I NEVER SAID THAT!_ ”

“Sir,” Peepers gave him a flat stare as he turned his eye up to face him. “You don’t need to say a thing.”

Hater paused, still mid pout and glare, as he crossed his arms and looked elsewhere stubbornly. Taking it as a cue to continue, Peepers began to scribble along the blank piece of paper in front of him.

“As I was saying,” He murmured, sounding clearly agitated, but whether it was from the interruption or the truth of Hater’s reluctance over conquering the galaxy, Hater wasn’t sure. “What are the plans now?”

Both Hater and Peepers looked wearily at each other, Hater’s brow raised as he held his breath, Peepers eyelid narrowed as he quietly tapped the tip of his pencil on the surface of the table.

And that’s when Hater’s phone vibrated, making the both of them look in the direction of his pockets.

Hater acted first, reaching into his cloak to bring his sorely ignored cellphone up to his line of vision. From behind it, he could see Peepers roll his eye but his commander was at least polite enough to keep his mouth shut as he pushed the paper away from in front of him.

Turning on the screen, Hater could see a dozen or so messages had been sent from Wander, presumably waiting for a response from him. They started off speaking of Sylvia, or really, her displeasure of being muddy, which of course made Hater chuckle under his breath. But as Wander went on, shooting out message after message to make up for his long silence, they began to drift off into a more familiar territory, into Wander’s free thinking forms of ramblings.

“ _Me and Syl are settling down now, we found a cliff to take shelter under. It’s a little chilly but the breeze feels nice! We even got a fire going!_ ”

“ _What are you up to Hatey? Are you having another meeting?_ ”

“ _Oh, I wish you were here! The stars look so pretty in the sky tonight!_ ”

“ _I can’t stop thinking that one of them are you, though,_ ” At that point, Wander seemed to have back tracked a little.

“ _I mean, the Skull-Ship. That one of the stars is actually the Skull-Ship._ ”

“ _I think Syl is gonna go to bed. I wish I had some more yarn with me, I have my needles but I can’t find any yarn._ ”

Hater rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a little tickle of affection in his sternum as he continued to read on.

“ _I really miss you._ ”

“ _I keep thinking about the cookies I baked you and how you said you kinda liked them? and I really wanna make more._ ”

“ _Would you eat more if I made them???_ ”

That’s about when the texts had stopped, but not without Wander leaving him a photo of a drawing he had scrawled into the soft, wet ground.

It was a doodle of Wander in an apron reaching up to kiss who looked to be Lord Hater in a chef hat, holding up a whisk and a bowl of mix. There were hearts all around them, and Hater hated the insistent putter of his own at the mere sight of the stupid scribble.

“You really like him, sir,” Peepers was giving him a flat, matter-of-fact type of stare as rested his head against his hand. “Don’t you?”

It was then Hater realized the goofy, lovestruck smile he had on his face, not to mention the way he was fluttering his lashes at his cell phone.

“Uhhhhh,” Hater quickly put down the device, pushing it away casually as a means of convincing. “Pfft— _I like him_ like him, sure, but, it’s, it’s not _that_ bad!”

Peepers hardly looked swayed as he gestured at Hater’s phone.

“Well, if you like him so much, where is he?” Peepers was back to frowning as he picked up his pencil again.

“He’s busy being Wander and _wandering_ , Peepers, Grop!” Hater suddenly felt very defensive over the star-nomad as he protectively scooped his phone back up, holding it close to his ribs. “Besides… I dunno,”

Still holding his phone up to his heart, he looked shyly down at his lap. “It’s not like I’ve asked him back over yet.”

“Why haven’t you, sir?”

“Because!” Hater tried not to shrink back into his knees again, staring down at his phone and scrolling through past messages, refusing to meet Peepers’ scrutinizing glare

“Because _why_?”

“Because! I’ve, well,” Hater could feel sweat pool on his temples as he put his phone down again, none too gently. “Maybe I’m planning something, okay?!”

“ _Planning_?” Peepers narrowed his eye, pushing the forgotten paper in front of him to the side as he leaned forward in interest.

Hater looked visibly nervous as he squirmed in his seat, reaching to activate the phone’s screen with a single finger as he avoided his commander’s stare, but not picking the device up from the table as he did so.

“That’s what I said Peepers, did I stutter!?” Hater bared his teeth, looking guarded, and Peepers eased back, eyeing the phone with curiosity.

“Not at all, sir,” Peepers blinked up at his boss, growing suspicious again when he received a lack of follow-up. “ _Sooooo_ , are you going to tell me your plans or?”

“No! Well, I don’t know, at some point, sure?” Hater continued to try and thwart the subject much to Peepers dismay, giving him the cold shoulder. “But they’re top secret, at least right now!”

Feeling impatient over Hater’s obstinate behavior, Peepers fisted his quivering hands tight at his sides as he eyed the cell phone sitting still on the table. Taking a deep breath, he visibly relaxed, hands letting loose, eyelid softening its strain.

“Alright, sir,” Peepers said, all too nonchalantly, looking down at where his nail beds rested under his gloves. “Whatever you say, hey, that’s fine.”

He waited a full moment or so, till Lord Hater looked at ease with his commander’s silence, before he leapt across the table. Sliding forward and picking up Hater’s phone along with him, his boss was quick to claw at his ankle,  angrily barking behind him.

“Peepers, _NO_!” Although he reached out in vain, Hater was kept away with a firm palm to the face. “That’s—THAT’S PRIVATE!”

Peepers tapped in his password to his cellphone, a non-too complicated _4-3-2-1,_ as he continued to wrestle with Lord Hater against the table.

“If _you’re_ not going to tell me what you’ve been planning in place of world conquering, sir, than I’m going to find out myself!”

It had taken a few minutes considering Hater’s difficulty and screaming, but Peepers finally managed to get the text labeled ‘ _Sunshine Banjo Face <3_’ open, eye falling onto the first available message, and in this case, image. He only needed to scroll through a few examples of chitchat before gagging.

“Ugh, nevermind, take it!” Peepers sat on the table and shuddered, letting Hater snatch up the phone for himself. “I see no plans anyway, just disgusting, romantic drivel.”

“EXACTLY!” Hater was shrieking, once again sending Peepers helmet crooked. “THAT’S THE POINT PEEPERS, DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO ROMANCE?!”

“Apparently not, because I don’t see how blubbering over each other is planning anything, sir!”

“I’m _courting_ him, Peepers! I’m sowing the seeds of passion, of _intrigue_ —I’m, I’m—”

“You’re flirting?” Continuing for his boss, Peepers raised his brow.

“Yes! I’m _flirting_!” Hater said as he slammed his phone back onto the table, throwing his hands up in the air in mental fatigue. Hesitating and looking uncomfortable, he pulled at the edge of his hood with trepidation, unsure of himself as he grumbled under his breath, far too low for Peepers to catch wind.

“You’re _what_?” Peepers brow raised in confusion as he slid off the table. “I can’t make out what you’re saying if you mumble, remember, sir? Use your words?”

“I remember!” Hater snapped, but with little force as he grew nervous again. “I’m, I’m, well,”

““I-I’m going to ask him out,” Hater turned green in the face as he rolled his hand in the air. “On, uh,”

“A _date_?” Filling in the blanks, Peepers crossed his arms, instantly looking displeased.

“Yeah?” Hater sounded unsure of himself as he sat back in his chair, looking timidly at his cellphone sitting inconspicuously on the table. “I mean, yeah! I’m, I’m gonna ask him on a date. Of sorts.”

“Of sorts?” Peepers asked, already dissecting his plans, much to Hater’s dismay.

“I’M ASKING HIM ON A DATE!” Hater was sick of the back of forth, banging his hands onto the table in frustration. “Candles, dinners, flowers, candy, long walks on the beach, A TRIP TO THE CARNIVAL, A MOVIE! A _DATE_ , PEEPERS! Clear enough for you, you flarpin’—!”

“ _Well_ ,” If he noticed Hater shaking with ire, Peepers didn’t comment. “Since you seem _so_ sure you want to, sir, why haven’t you?”

“INTERRUPT ME, PEEPERS! _ONE MORE TIME_!” Hater warned with the threat of a thousand volts, hands coursing with electricity, successfully sending Peepers skidding into his seat in the blink of an eye.

Exhaling in annoyance, Hater took a seat and tilted his skull back, staring upward with unhappiness. “I haven’t asked him _BECAUSE_!”

“I dunno,” Hater sat forward with a meek shrug, failing to meet Peepers eye in a show of nerves. “I sort of don’t know where to take him?”

Peepers blinked over at his boss appearing so timid across from him, watching the way he fingered at the table top and continuously threw looks at his phone. This powerhouse of a skeleton, bestowed with gifts that defied science, the same evil overlord who had brought whole races to their knees and leveled cities…

Was _terrified_ of Wander. Namely, _disappointing_ Wander, on what would be presumably their first date.

Peepers then realized with a deep seated type of dread, that Lord Hater, usually uninhabited with his need to impress but infamously nervous around objects of affection, really did have it _bad_ for the wandering weirdo.

With a feeble sigh of regret, Peepers slid the forgotten looseleaf back in front of him, picking up his pencil as he grimaced down at his hands

“Didn’t you just answer your own question, sir?” Hater’s commander was already jotting down possible date ideas as he spoke without looking up. “You said it yourself! Flowers, candy, and dinner, this isn’t rocket science, nor galactic domination for that matter…”

Hater decided to ignore that last quip, not without an eye full of bitterness.

“No, it has to be somewhere cool, somewhere that will wow him: somewhere that is _special_!” Hater groused, a familiar sound to Peepers ears, before turning to sarcasm. “Yeah, Peepers, let me just take the guy who’s been around the galaxy and back like, a hundred times to a _movie_ , no wonder you’re the idea guy!”

“Oh, c’mon, sir! You know Wander!” He rolled his eye and gestured about with his pencil. “You could put him in a soggy cardboard box with a bunch of crayons and a place mat, tell him to use his imagination and he’d think it was ‘ _special_!’”

“Pfft! That wouldn’t work!” Hater frowned at first, but his look was quick to wain. “Right? You—you weren’t being serious.”

Peepers deadpanned again, blinking slowly before sighing. “No, sir, I wasn’t being serious. Lord Hater, sir, if you don’t mind me saying, you’re looking way too into this. Call it a guess, but Wander seems like the sentimental type, he probably could care less where you take him.”

Hater’s apparent nerves were draining from his face, brow raising hopefully as he eyed Peepers with cautious optimism. “You really think so?”

“Considering he giggled and lollygagged himself through a fully functioning doom-arena, I think Wander can make light of any situation, sir.”

“Mmmmm,” Hater pondered out loud as he leaned back in his seat thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin with reluctance. “He _does_ have a knack for it.”

“Some people may call it that,” Peepers murmured with clear disagreement in his tone. “But that’s besides the point.”

“If I could make a suggestion, sir?” Peepers didn’t wait for Hater’s approval as he went on. “Rather than dwelling on where you think Wander would find special, why don’t you take him somewhere that _you_ think is special?”

At first, Hater side-eyed Peepers with confusion, but his face soon slid into something more firm as he tapped the tips of his index fingers together in apparent consideration. “...Go on.”

Hesitating, Peepers reflected over what would happen if he did help Hater pull off the perfect date with Wander. It would certainly mean that more than likely not, the annoying space-hobo would be spending more time in their lives, making him bite back a groan of despair.

Seeing the way Hater sat forward, focused and uninhibited, _excited_ , softened the blow somewhat, under the idea that maybe, with his worries over Wander and his dating life out of the way, it could free up some of his attention for galactic domination.

‘ _Besides,_ ’ Peepers said, the chain of his half of their ‘ _best buds_ ’ necklace feeling like a thousand pounds under his uniform. ‘ _If you hate Wander or not, that’s just what best friends do._ ’

“Well,” Peepers sighed as he waved at the air weakly, resigning himself to the fate of helping Lord Hater with dating advice on someone who was quickly looking to be their _former_ most hated enemy.

“All I’m trying to say is that Wander doesn’t look like the type to care where you bring him, sir, as long as you’re there,” Peepers couldn’t help but snort, voice full of apathy, as he continued through his misery. “Besides the fact you can entertain him well enough with things as inane as some string or shiny objects.

“Rather than focus where he’d want to go, why don’t you think about where _you’d_ want to go with him, somewhere _you’d_ like. I don’t tag Wander as the picky type. Tell him it’s somewhere special to you, so he feels like, I don’t know, sir, that you’re sharing something personal with him. It’s pretty apparent he’s more of a ‘ _down for the ride rather than the prize_ ,’ type of guy. He’s enough of a sap to eat right into that.

“That is,” He couldn’t help but add under his breath, flicking his pencil off the table with barely contained sourness. “If he likes you half as much as he says he does.”

“Well, he's gotta like me,” Clearly anxious, Hater was more or less trying to convince himself of the answer. “Who doesn't like me—right?”

Hater’s tone of concern made Peepers look up from the table, apprehension and worry clear on the skeleton’s face. A stubborn part of Peepers was screaming for recognition at the mention of Wander’s “feelings,” or more specifically, at the idea he had snuck onto the Skull-Ship, not once, but twice, to _seduce_ Hater, and that it was all part of his heinous plan to steal his boss away from evil.

The notion still picked at Peepers, but he couldn’t help but think of Wander’s insistent meddling into Hater’s life. Wander, the "friendliest-face-in-the-galaxy,” although more than apt to help anyone who was in needed of his “services,” did seem to be particularly entranced on Lord Hater since the first day they crossed paths. 

Peepers had always assumed it was tied into the usual garbage Wander liked to spout, how he insisted on finding the “kindness in everyone,” yet the more Peepers thought of the way Wander gravitated towards Hater, constantly putting himself in his way to help him, more than any other villain in particular, he was finding it harder and harder convincing himself to lie and say ‘yes’ to Hater’s worries.  
  
Besides—Lord Hater, despite his cockiness and bravado, wore his heart on his sleeve, and having to hear him weep over Wander’s not “ _like liking him_ ” was something he wanted to avoid after today's argument, at least for now.  
  
“Lord, Hater, sir,” Peepers, once again reluctant, spoke only the truth. “He’d be crazy—well, even crazier—if he didn’t.”  
  
At his words of encouragement, Hater smiled earnestly, and Peepers couldn’t deny that it made him feel a little better himself.  
  
“…Y’know, that’s what I was thinking, too,” Hater scoffed, reverting back to his pompous ways. “I mean, he _did_ agree I was the greatest in the galaxy.”  
  
“Did he now?” Peepers fed into Hater’s ego, as per usual, but not without a frown at the idea of Hater dating Wander.  
  
“Yeah, guess he wasn’t as dumb as I thought,” he murmured under his breath before continuing. “But, keeping those sentiments in mind, let’s just call it as it is, I could _easily_ impress him!”  
  
“Of course, sir,” Peepers decided to forgo mentioning that a few paper clips strung together could impress Wander, choosing instead to lean his face against his hand in boredom.  
  
“He did say I was also the best kisser in the galaxy too, which, _psssh_ ,” Hater smoothed back his antennas with one swift motion. “That should surprise no one.”  
  
“Did he now?” Peepers nearly choked on his words, ignoring the disturbing mental images now plaguing his thoughts.  
  
“Yeah, but y’know—I don’t expect you to necessarily get it, being this romantic takes some tact, a certain type of nuance, if you will. It’s that type of awesome that you’re just kind of born with?”  
  
“Oh, I don’t doubt it, sir,”  
  
“So, I, I got this, no sweat! I don’t know what you’re so nervous over, _Peepers_ , I just, you know,” Hater cleared his throat, picking his phone up from the table, not without fidgeting. “Just have to text him.”  
  
“Yep,” Peepers felt like it was about that time for him to fetch a cleaning crew to take care of the mess Hater had left in the aftermath of his tantrum. “Pretty self explanatory.”  
  
“That’s,” Hater reached up to wipe perspiration from off his brow. “That’s all it takes, it’s that easy. Just a text message. You type in the words, you press the ‘ _SEND_ ’ button and then you wait.”  
  
“I’ll let you get right to it, sir!” Peepers slinked out of his seat and looked straight towards the exit, not without a hasty wave behind him. “I have full faith, Lord Hater, if anyone can wow the little weirdo, it’s you!”  
  
Peepers just about reached for the door handle before Hater was crying out behind him.  
  
“Peepers, _wait_!” From head to toe, Peepers cringed, eyelid dropping in annoyance. “You—you can’t go yet!”  
  
By the time Peepers had turned around to face Hater, the skeleton’s robe was sopping from the pits down in nervous sweat, successfully wetting the back of the chair he was crouching behind. With big, sad eyes, Hater pleaded at his commander with his stare, and Peepers massaged the corners of his eyelid.

“What is the matter, sir?” Peepers gave Hater an incredulous look. He already felt way too involved in a relationship he didn’t even necessarily encourage; yes, he supported _Hater_ , but that didn’t mean he had to support the relationship. “You said it yourself, you just type in the question, press the ‘ _SEND_ ’ button, and send it! Why do you need me?!”

“Peepers, I’m, I just,” Staying true to his usual mannerisms around those he fancied, Hater was anxious, the bags under his eyes suddenly dark, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. “I need your help, you, you gotta type it for me, Peepers, I don’t know if I can do this!”

“You need me to,” Peepers huffed in annoyance, grabbing at the air in frustration. He was really beginning to wonder if this frightened skeleton was the same evil overlord that had destroyed Lord Dominator. “Sir, you can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m serious, Peepers!” Hater pointed at his cell phone now sitting on the table, glaring over at his commander sternly. “ _Dead_ serious! That’s a direct order, _commander_ , or are you forgetting your post!?”

Hater looked angry for only a split second till he melted under the weight his own jitters. “I need your help, Peepers, don’t make me do this alone!”

Peepers was deeply regretting interrupting their initial meeting. Yes, Hater would have been slacking off, snorting with laughter and commentary at Wander’s messages rather than taking their plans of ruling a fresh new galaxy seriously, but it would have saved him the taxing mental torture of helping Lord Hater ask Wander out on a date.

Looking none too enthusiastic, Peepers made his way to Hater’s side, peeling the cell phone from off the table.

“Now,” Hater took a deep breath, once again running a hand over his hood as a means of ridding some of the sweat from off of him, leaning back in his seat to speak out loud.

“‘So, Wander, hey, what’s shaking?’” Hater started, before he immediately back tracked, looking horrified. “Wait, no, no, that—don’t do that, do _not_ send him that, scratch that from off the record!”

Peepers hadn’t even began typing yet as he stared vacantly down at the phone, Wander’s message open for him to see, along with the drawing he had doodled for Hater. It looked to be done in the mud, no doubt because Wander was off being the vagabond that he was, dawdling along the cracks and crevices of the universe with that Zbornak, which, really made Peepers wonder how she was taking this whole ‘ _relationship_ ’—

“I _said_ ,” Hater broke through Peepers thoughts with stiff words as he bared his teeth. “‘Hey Wander, I have something I want to ask you!’”

Peepers threw Hater’s a sideways glare before his fingers started to move, thumbs tapping against the phone screen soundlessly, keeping in mind Hater’s atrocious grammar when spelling out the text.

“Move your big eyeball, Peepers, I can’t see!” Sitting his chin on his commander’s shoulder, Hater blinked down at the screen, seeing the words ‘ _hey wander i have something to ask u._ ’

“Alright, not bad Peepers,” Hater looked bursting with excitement as he nodded enthusiastically “I think we got it, I have a good feeling about this!”

Peepers looked over at him, raising his brow with the expectation for Hater to continue blathering, but his boss only stared down the screen with apprehension. A response, least of all an authorization to send it, had never come.

“So,” Peepers tried. “Can I send it, sir, or?”

“Oh!” Hater sat back, turning immediately away from the phone. “Yeah, you can— _WAIT_!”

Peepers pulled his thumb away from the ‘ _SEND_ ’ button as Hater glanced over the screen one last time. “Okay, you can send it.”

Giving a an incredulous scoff at Hater’s wishy-washy behavior, Peepers didn’t hesitate a second more to send the text, waiting for the phone to beep with a confirmation before he sat it on the table.

“...Alright, well,” Hater took a deep breath, still appearing uncertain as he eyed his phone. “Now we just,”

“We wait,” Peepers mumbled under his breath.

A full minute passed, consisting of them looking between the ceilings and the floor with foreboding, to outside the Skull-Ship’s massive windows, and finally, at themselves. It didn’t take long for Peepers to sigh, his usual patience with his boss seemingly forgotten in these trying circumstances.

“Sir, did we even consider that Wander has fallen—”

The phone had hardly vibrated before Hater was yanking it from off the table, visibly scanning the screen for what felt like an eternity before he blinked over at Peepers.

“Peepers!” Hater stuttered when clarifying, trying his best to sound determined, “He said yes. To, to me asking a question. He said _yes_!”

“Alright, well,” Peepers shrugged, willing himself to be encouraging as he motioned at Hater’s phone. “That’s a good thing!”

Before he could blink, Hater dumped the device back in Peepers extended hand, his commander nearly dropping it in surprise.

“You’re right! That _is_ a good thing!” Hater hardly sounded convinced as he once again began to perspire in his robes, making them cling what looked uncomfortably to his bones. “Alright, Peepers, this has to be _PERFECT_! You _cannot_ flarp this up—”

“Okay, sir, okay,” Peepers was growing nervous himself with the fear of Hater throwing an outburst. “What do you want it to say?!”

“Something, something nice—it has to be nice! And charming! I don’t want him saying no,” Hater was beginning to panic out loud, sweat streaming down his face in rivulets. “He _can’t_ say no Peepers, that’d be totally embarrassing, and, and I like him _way_ too much, he just can’t!”

Peepers fingers began to tremble as he looked between his own restless typing and Hater’s frightened expression.

Trying to be rational, Peepers understood the situation could go either of two ways:

With Wander saying yes, Hater would be overjoyed, content, and hopefully for Peepers, sated enough to pay attention to plans of Galactic Domination and to stop harping on the Wanderer.

A dark thought crossed Peepers mind as he considered Wander’s refusal. Wander could say no, if Peepers played his cards correctly (ie: was _completely_ rude and nasty), thus sending Hater into a fit of heartbreak and despair, and possibly into manic thoughts of destroying the little, orange terror, getting rid of the issue of Wander once and for all…

But then he thought about Hater’s crying and sadness, how it would utterly destroy him; he thought back to his anguish over Dominator, and couldn’t imagine after the time he spent with Wander how hurt Lord Hater would be over hearing the furry alien saying ‘no.’

So Peepers sighed and read over his message not once, but twice, before he turned to Hater, swallowing back his dismay as he read it out loud.

“Wander,” Peepers hesitated as he looked between the phone and Hater.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Hater took a deep breath and held it, looking between his commander and his cell phone as he fretted visibly in his spot.

“...A little trite, Peepers, it’s, it’s not going to win pick-up-line-of-the-year, or anything,” Hater shook his head, his skull now glistening under the all too hot lights of the War Room. “But it’ll, it’ll have to do, I guess.”

Considering his words as the next best thing to a blessing, Peepers gave a dreadful Hater one last look before he sent the message.

It only took a full minute of no response to pass before Hater’s eyes began to water.

“Oh, sir,” Peepers fury, which had been tormenting him since the interruption of the meeting, considerably softened, as he placed a comforting hand on Hater’s forearm. “You have to give him a few moments to respond—”

“What if he _doesn’t_ respond?” Hater started to sniffle, hanging his head in shame. “What if he finally realized that despite how cool I am, that even with my rocking and totally awesome powers, no matter _how_ debonair, ferocious and handsome I am, that it won’t work out?

“What if I was too mean, Peepers,” Hater’s voice slightly choked up. “W-What if I was mean just one too many times for even _Wander_ to say yes to me!?”

“Then sir, like I said,” Peepers gave him a pat on the arm. Despite Hater’s fears, Peepers knew better; Wander wouldn’t say no to Hater, that would work far too well in Peepers favor. “He’s even more a deranged idiot than I ever thought possible.”

“You’re right,” That made Hater’s tears stop and his face soften as he smiled a little at Peepers.

“Y’know what, Peepers?” Hater was back to sounding gruff as he frowned over at his phone, smearing his finger across the black screen as a means of looking distracted. “Thanks. For, you know. Whatever.”

Peepers couldn’t deny the elation he felt in his chest at Hater’s praise, but before he could smile, let alone give thanks, could revel at the fact that Hater was actually being sort of _polite_ towards him, Hater’s phone vibrated, making both their eyes wide and their breaths canter.

Then it vibrated again. And again. And _again_ , until Hater curled up in his seat and hid his face in his hands, refusing to acknowledge the device resonating against the table.

Taking the initiative for his leader, Peepers picked up the phone and read out loud.

“Yes,” Peepers read the messages that followed quickly after, not watching as Hater slowly undid himself from his ball of torment. “Yes, yes, yes,” Peepers read the next one. “What should I wear? When do you want to go? I’m so excited Hatey, you’re the cutest?”

The phone vibrated in Peepers hand and he scoffed, unimpressed. “He sent you three of those stupid, heart symbol, _things_.”

“HE SAID YES?!” Hater’s excited screaming made the War Room echo before he snatched his phone from Peeper’s grasp.

“Yes,” Peepers eyelid twitched at the admission, watching Hater practically smack his phone into his forehead with how closely he was reading Wander’s responses. “He, Wander, your greatest enemy, said yes.”

“Yes, YES! _OF COURSE_ HE SAID _YES_!” Hater near tossed his phone at Peepers as he leapt up from his chair, his commander catching it clumsily as Hater began to dance.

“Oh, yeah, he said yes, he said yes~” It took everything in Peepers not to slam the phone down into itty bitty pieces, instead daintily resting it on the table.

Hater was _cabbage patching_ and shaking his hips by the time Peepers groaned. “Do you even know where you’re taking him, sir?”

“Oh, you leave that to me, Peepers! Got it all mapped up in here,” Hater said as he motioned at his temple. “Had it planned out all along, really! You wanna know whyyyyyy?”

Peepers gave a half-hearted salute, sounding more unsure than angry at this point; just what was Lord Hater planning? The prospect made him nervous as he answered.

“Because sir, you’re Lord Hater, greatest—”

“IN THE GALAXY, I know, _thank you_!” Hater threw up horns with both hands as he jiggled them up at the ceiling. “That’s why Wander said yes, ‘cause he knows it, ‘cause he likes me, he thinks I’m awesome~!

“He said _YES_! Which only means I, _Lord Hater_ , smoothest and coolest _Don Juan_ of the Galaxy, _one_ , and crippling, awkward social responses and weak-knees, a big fat _ZERO_!”

Hater took a deep breath as he collected his phone from off the table, fingers already clicking away at the screen, now completely oblivious to Peepers presence.

Merely blinking at Hater’s usual display of theatrics, Peepers didn’t know what to say.

“Are you going to tell me, sir?”

“...Tell you what?” Hater seemed disinterested when speaking to his commander as he continued to type back and forth to Wander.

“Where you’re going on the date?” Peepers couldn’t believe how easily Hater could just turn off when he was speaking to Wander. “The date, sir, _the date_!”

“Oh,” Hater shrugged as he started to make his way towards the door, not even bothering to speak over his shoulder as he finally acknowledged him. “I’ll tell you later, Peepers, Grop you worry _way_ too much, take a load off, why don’t you.”

“Alright, this got super lame super fast, I’m bored,” Hater snorted, already out the door when he finally turned to face Peepers.

“Why don’t you take the night off or something to get over all that stress of yours, Peepers, it’s really not healthy or conducive, talk about a fast way pop a blood vessel, which I can’t imagine would be a good look on you.”

Hater was back to typing away on his phone, sounding distracted as he went on.

“Just, you know—don’t let anyone near my room or I’ll unleash a thousand years of pain on them, along with the typical promises of enslaving their loved ones and sacrificing them for my amusement,” Hater listed off the items as casually as one would read a shopping list. “Look, I don’t have it in me tonight, I’m feeling tired and my shows are on, it’s going to get entirely too messy. Do us both a favor and don’t let anyone interrupt me or it’s your butt on the line, ‘kay thanks Peepers, Lord Hater, _best dater_ , _love slayer_ , _OUUUUUT_!”

Peepers watched as the door slid closed with his eyelid agape, to this day, still astounded on how Hater managed to switch emotions at the drop of a dime. Getting over his initial shock, Peepers made sure he waited a good few minutes before he pulled the front of his uniform over his pupil, till he could shout out into the material in anger and frustration in the safety of his lonesome.

Wander said yes and Hater had a plan, so he said. It left Peepers full of questions and yes, _stress_ , as he wondered just what his boss was cooking up as a means to surprise Wander.

Peepers was _absolutely_ regretting cutting their meeting short this evening; it would have been a heck of a lot less work than what was beginning to unfold for the lives involved in the Lord Hater Empire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, again, I apologize for a lack of Wander. But bigger things are to come, and we’ll finally get a little Sylvia into the picture! Again guys, thanks for your patience! I swear I didn’t mean for the story to get this big, but, hell, here we are! As always, feel free to stop by my [blog](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/) and say hi! Hope you all keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter!


	5. Chapter Five: The Talk Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you just drag me in here to stare at me or talk?!” When she continued to merely toss food into her mouth, her face as hard as stone, Hater gestured wildly at the air in outrage.
> 
> “ _WHAT ARE YOU EVEN LOOKING AT!?_ ”
> 
> “You,” Sylvia answered, her voice as flat as her expression. “More specifically, I’m trying to see what _Wander_ manages to see in you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Man, chapter five already, I can’t believe it! Again, I will keep this short.
> 
> Just want to thank my beta again, aloneindarknes7. Always appreciate it!
> 
> And I want to thank [odu4](https://odu4.tumblr.com/) for making [this](https://dirtyodu.tumblr.com/post/151155613800/gift-for-spacecrunched-3-and-read-her) (NSFW) comic for me for one of my favorite scenes in this fic, from chapter 3. I AM STILL TOTALLY SOBBING OVER IT, you gifting this to me is an absolute dream come true, thank you so much!

Today was the day.

The date.

The _first date_ , for Lord Hater and Wander.

And Commander Peepers was making sure that it would go off without a hitch—

“Streamers? _Really_?! Did anyone give you a direct order to put streamers _anywhere_ on the ship?!”

—Apart from, of course, the usual inadequacies his troops were prone of falling into which were simply unavoidable.

A few Watchdogs noticeably wilted on their ladders as Peepers waved in detest at their decorations.

“I said precise, orderly, clean!” Peepers reiterated as he made his way through the halls of the Skull-Ship with Hater’s bedroom in mind. “Not flashy or corny, get this nonsense off the walls! We’re going for ' _neat and well-managed bachelor,_ ' not ' _desperate and chop-full of old party favors!_ ’”

Acting as ‘date MC’ came natural to Peepers, who was glad to take over the duty of setting up the Skull-Ship once Hater officially put the plans of Wander’s and his first date into motion. It had been a few days since Wander accepted, and the overlord had been difficult to say the least, even more so, _demanding_ , over every little detail going smoothly. The Skull-Ship was being stripped, waxed and tidied to the uptenth degree, with the kitchens stocked full of vegetarian meals and substitutes, not to mention portions fit for a Zbornak. 

With the ship in order and the men behaving, all that was left for Peepers to do was wake _Space-Romeo_ himself.

“Sir?” 

Even after a few, good knocks, Peepers was met with silence as he stood before the immediate door leading to Lord Hater’s chambers. He chalked up his boss’ lack of greeting on a bad case of nerves, as Hater had been teetering off a very sharp edge ever since Wander’s agreement for their date.

‘ _This has to be perfect, Peepers,_ ’

‘ _He’s been places, he’s met people, he’s seen things! This is Wander we’re talking about, have you seen his travel repertoire!?_ ’

Digging through his massive stockpile of robes, Hater had been worrying out loud to his commander while trying to pick an outfit, fussing despite each cloak looking the same as the next. 

‘ _I have to impress him, Peepers, I_ need _to impress him!_ ’

Peepers had assured Lord Hater in between sobs of dread and fits of fury that he had full faith in his boss’ dating abilities; that Hater, Greatest in the Galaxy _and_ in tribulations of love, would wow the socks off the nomadic nut job.

Well, Peepers _assumed_ he would, at the very least.

Hater, after all, hadn’t yet revealed the secret of where he was taking Wander.

‘ _It’s a surprise, Peepers,_ ’ Hater would insist, ‘ _Grop, get off my back!_ ’ continuing to leave Peepers in the dark over exactly what he was planning.

No matter, he tried to tell himself, despite the nagging behind his eye; Peepers had faith. He stood by his statements about Wander, how flakey and weird he was. He would be impressed no matter where Hater chose, as long as it appealed to the pacifist in him. 

That eliminated Hater’s past choices, pre-Wander, of “dream-dates,” like _volcanic-sacrifice-sight-seeing_ and _ritualistic-voodoo-doll-making._ It left Peepers rather stumped on where Hater was going to take Wander, considering dinner and a movie were too blasé for Hater’s taste.

Peepers knocked again, then three times, but still received no answer. As third in command, he felt he had enough precedent to walk himself into Hater’s bedroom. Wander was allowed to, apparently, so Peepers didn’t think Hater would mind all that much. Besides, Wander was expected to show any minute now. Despite the initiative Peepers took setting up the Skull-Ship for the big arrival, he wanted to get the hubbub of Hater and Wander’s relationship over and done with sooner rather than later.

Tales of Hater’s involvement with Wander were already running rampant through all ranks of Watchdog, from kernel to foot soldiers, from tactical advisers to the drones who scrubbed the toilets. The Watchdogs were obsessing over the rumors that Lord Hater was pursuing Wander— _The_ Wander—the same furry menace that they were supposedly capturing as his latest conquests of the heart, ever since the two began exchanging text messages.

Rumors became fact when Hater informed during an impromptu rally that “ _I’m sort of seeing Wander,_ ” to the mixed reactions of his henchmen. Some gasped, one even fainted; Andy already had a full story with exclusive interviews lined up but it seemed that all the Watchdogs were lost amongst the gossip.

Under the chatter of the cafeteria and in between the hush of drills, Watchdogs were eagerly blathering about the buzz of Lord Hater and Wander’s relationship, and of course, it all came back to their ever scrupulous commander.

‘ _I heard Hater got him a ring already._ ’

‘ _Well,_ I _heard that they were caught kissing a few weeks ago in the Smooch room.’_

‘ _Guys, guys, guys, you got it all wrong! Remember Raymond’s_ Twizzrk _post? Lord Hater is going to trick Wander and destroy him! Didn’t you hear about his blueprints during one of the most recent conference meetings?_ ’

The last one was a little concerning (apart from the destroy Wander part), but nothing boiled Peepers blood more than the most popular hearsay that was being passed between barracks.

‘ _I heard he’s quitting evil._ ’

It was the only rumor wild enough to disrupt Peepers from his duties, angering him to the point of threatening whispering Watchdogs, no matter how innocent their intentions. Peepers liked to think that the quicker Wander and Hater dated, the sooner Hater could chase the puppy love from out of his system, and thus, make it easier for him to concentrate on getting back to villainy.

Peepers blinked in the darkness of Hater’s bedroom, which was illuminated only by the dulled neon lights adorning the walls. Square in the middle of Hater’s bed was a lump beneath the blankets, which Peepers assumed was none other than Lord Hater himself, as he walked over to his bed side.

“Lord Hater, sir?” Peepers sighed. “You _do_ know what today is, right?” 

He doubted Hater could forget, he had been talking about it endlessly, carrying on about Wander in between picking what planet had the nicest location for stargazing and fretting over what songs he should put on their ‘ _No Bones About It: I Can’t Stop Wandering About You_ ’ mixtape.

With a noticeable lack of response, Peepers feared that he had slept in after a night of tossing and turning, but eventually, Hater’s gravely voice broke through the silence of his bedroom.

“Yeah,” Hater sounded quiet and unsure.

“Now hey, is this the same heinous tyrant that I was speaking to last night, all excited and ready for the _big date_ today?”

“Maybe,” Hater responded, continuing to keep his answers short, voice suppressed by the layer of his blanket.

Peepers reached over Hater’s nightstand to switch on the lights, hands on his hips as he eyed the mountain of blankets on the bed.

“Sir, you and Captain Tim cannot hide under there forever.”

There was a shift under the covers, a soft hiss from Captain Tim, but besides moving further away from his night table light, Hater didn’t budge from his hiding spot.

“By all means, sir, feel free to stand the little freak up, but can we maybe do it before the Zbornak arrives?”

Hater peeked his head out from under his blanket just enough to glare in Peepers direction, face bitten and torn at by his loyal companion.

“I’m not ditching him!” Hater near snarled, pulling the blankets tighter around his skull. 

Glancing nervously about his bedroom, Peepers watched as Hater let his blanket fall away, looking oblivious to Captain Tim gnawing on his arm. With Hater still in his pajamas, it took everything within Peepers not to groan. 

Although he wasn’t necessarily happy about Wander and Hater’s date, he had spent quite a bit of time preparing for it. He’d liked his plans, whether galactic domination or not, to go off without any hiccups.

“I’m just,” With a screech of teeth on bone, Hater gingerly plucked Tim from off of him with a resentful huff. 

“I’m just mentally preparing myself, okay!?”

“This is my first date—well, my first _real_ date—and Wander, he’s been everywhere. What if he thinks it’s super boring or something?”

“Sir, I thought we went over this,” Hater watched his commander visibly pause before he sat himself on the mattress, not without some difficulty. 

“Lord Hater, Greatest in the Galaxy, you’re going to impress the fur off of Wander, and if he isn’t smart enough to realize it, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Although Peepers kept up his sentiments that Wander didn’t deserve Hater, he also stood by his words of comfort, giving a careful pat to his boss’ shoulder.

“Wander has apparently been everywhere, but he hasn’t been everywhere with _you_ ,” Peepers kindly reminded him. “All those ‘ _cool_ ’ places? They’re going to feel like distant memories after your date.”

“Yeah?” Hater cheered up significantly, and Peepers caught himself feeling fond over his wide, sincere eyes.

“Yep,” Peepers assured him. “Absolutely, sir.”

Despite being unhappy with his choice of date, Peepers did want Lord Hater to enjoy himself. Besides, Peepers couldn’t help but hope for him to focus a bit more on evil once he got over the thrill of dating Wander.

“Yeah, you know what? You’re right,” Hater’s spirits elevated as he rose from off the bed, not without a pat to Captain Tim’s head. 

“It’s going to be _impossible_ for him to have a bad time with me, he already thinks I’m cute, funny, totally sexy and charming, says it all the time in his text messages,” It took everything in Peepers not to gag.

“Besides, I had the ship’s detail team take a look at the van one more time, the upholstery needed to be cleaned again—”

“ _What._ ”

Peepers eyelid flew open wide as he turned to scrutinize Hater, pupil shrinking to the size of a dot. With a flat tone of voice, Peepers question sounded more like a statement, and the skeleton took notice.

“Yeah, I told you?” Sounding convinced, Hater started to flex in front of a mirror. “I’m taking Wander in the Van to _Gorzalon-10_ , Jarvian’s moon—well, whatever’s left of it, anyway—I’ve told you like, five times, Peepers.”

“No!” Peepers leapt to stand on the bed, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, you didn’t tell me five times, you didn’t tell me _period_!”

Hopping from off the mattress, Peepers took to Hater’s side, following him into the bathroom.

“Sir, you’re, you’re taking him in the van?!”

Peepers, who had managed to put aside his dislike and mistrust for Wander considerably well for the past few days, felt his ire for the furball return tenfold. 

“Yeah, Peepers, who doesn’t like the van?” Haters scoffed as he reached inside his medicine cabinet. “Everyone knows that retro, antique vehicles are a total romance magnet.”

“But, but!” Peepers felt his bottom lid tremble as he searched out Lord Hater’s face. “That’s—that’s _our_ spot! That’s where we hung out!”

“Yeah, and? What, do you think Wander and me are going to get cooties all over it, or something?” Lord Hater snorted in disbelief before turning serious. “Cooties aren’t a thing, right?”

“Sir,” Peepers voice lingered as his expression turned into something akin to hurt.

The idea of Wander coming into that part of their lives sort of rubbed Peepers the wrong way; Wander was in their present and soon to be in their future, he had to be in their past too?

Okay, Peepers thought, all things considered, since their last argument, he held up his whole ‘ _be the supportive friend,_ ’ part of the deal fairly well. He wasn’t happy about Wander and Hater’s relationship, but he’d be lying if he said the blow hadn’t softened after a few days of thinking about it. 

It would never be ideal, but Peepers was confident in his abilities in minimizing and managing even the toughest of situations: he was the commander of _the_ Lord Hater Empire, after all, and that came with the massive responsibility of not only making plans, managing the troops and conquering planets, but dealing with Lord Hater himself, his fragile ego and messes included. He’d _have_ to make it work if Wander and Hater liked each other as much as Hater claimed; that meant Wander was going to be around at least for a little while.

Call it childish and silly, Peepers felt a little _offended_ that Hater was letting Wander into a part of their lives that they had spent together alone; before the Watchdogs, before the empire, before Wander and Sylvia—it was just the two of them, and he figured it would stay that way.

“Peepers,” Hater turned to him with a face covered in shaving cream. “Are you _really_ that upset?”

“Well,” 

Okay, yes, Peepers was hurt, but he was also starting to feel foolish with Lord Hater looking at him so incredulously. “Maybe?”

Blinking at first, Hater snorted derisively, looking back at the mirror with a roll of his eyes. Peepers instantly felt his blood boil.

“Oh, it wouldn’t upset _you_ if I brought someone into the van!?”

“Uh, yeah, of course it would,” Hater said as he dragged a razor across his cheek. “It’s _my_ van? Pretty sure I got _my_ face painted on it, so yeah I’d be upset if _you_ brought someone into _my_ van, that’s _my_ love-shack, not _yours._ ”

“Look Peepers,” After giving it a rinse, Hater brandished the razor about as he spoke to his commander directly. “If you think that bringing Wander into the van is somehow going to tarnish and ruin our memories together, then you’re a bigger baby than I thought.”

“Grop, Peepers,” Peepers felt momentarily stun by the maturity and clarity of Hater’s words. “do you really think a date with Wander in the van is going to change stuff between me and you? Didn’t we go over this?”

In spite of Hater being right, Peepers crossed his arms and glowered when the overlord scoffed at the mirror. 

“You’re doing that weird jealousy thing again and it’s creepy.”

“For flarp’s sake sir, I’m not jealous!” he insisted, thoroughly annoyed at Hater’s shocking amount of insight. Though Hater made perfect sense, Peepers couldn’t help but feel a twinge of bitterness over it; Hater got what Hater wanted, especially the few rare times he was correct. 

“Whatever, you made your point.”

“Once again: Hater, one,” Hater whispered as he rinsed his razor, tapping it along the sink. “Peepers, zero.”

“Please,” Peepers mumbled under his breath, annoyed only up until he felt his phone vibrate against his leg. Moving fast to slip it out of his pocket, his eye grew wide as he read the name on his caller ID. “Oh Grop sir, it’s Carson from look-out, I think he’s here!”

Putting the earpiece to the side of his eye, Peepers balanced his phone between his head and shoulder, already ripping open the shower curtain and turning on the taps.

“This better not be about the canapés, Carson, or so help me,” Peepers spoke into the receiver, and Lord Hater officially felt his insides tie up into knots, like they had tangled up and dropped down between his knees. 

“Okay, okay. Mmmhmmm. Yeah, uh-huh, alright. Is that so? Good, _good_ , okay, sure.”

Peepers managed to look calm and collected when speaking to Carson, but once Hater could hear the other line audibly click, Peepers tossed his phone forgotten to the floor, eye growing wide, pupil shrinking in fear.

“They’re here!”

“They!?” Latching onto the shower curtain, Hater nearly pulled it from off the rungs as he swung backwards on it, stopped only by his commander. “The, the _proverbial they_ or—”

“THEY, SIR, _THEY_! The weirdo and the Zbornak!” Peepers was already pushing him by the back of his legs in the direction of the shower stall.

“They’re outside the ship as we speak! Holy Grop, we’re totally behind schedule, they’re a whole eleven minutes and thirteen seconds _way_ too early, this is already a disaster!”

“B-but, but my morning shave—”

“YOU’RE A SKELETON SIR, YOU DON’T SHAVE, YOU’VE NEVER SHAVED, _GET IN THE SHOWER!_ ”

“Okay, okay, I’m in the shower, I’m in—!”

Peepers pushed Hater, clothes in all, into the tub, yanking the shower curtain closed.

“You, sir, undress, take a proper shower, and get ready! I expect you in the lobby no later than ten minutes!” Peepers original plans were already needing modification: Hater could no longer greet Wander at the door—well, at the _mouth_ —so, of course, as per usual, it was time for Peepers to take matters into his own hands. 

“Do not waste time, do not diddle-daddle over your nerves, and whatever you do, do _not_ load up on the cologne sir, that stuff is horribly pungent.”

“It’s not that bad!” Hater peeked his head from out of the shower, horns dripping with water, neck craning past the curtain to keep some sense of modesty. “Is it really that bad?”

“It makes babies cry and flowers wilt sir, it’s _that_ bad!” Peepers ignored Hater’s pouting from over his shoulder as he made his way towards the exit. 

“Ten minutes, Lord Hater, sir, _ten_!” he warned before slamming the door behind him.

Peepers was confident that with his ingenuity and finesse, he needed no more than a solid ten minutes to distract both Wander and the Zbornak. With the excruciating amount of time he had spent with the _traveling circus: party of two_ , he liked to think he knew enough about their coinciding personalities to curb both their excitable and brash behaviors, respectively. Wander was simple: a piece of yarn and a napkin could curtail Wander, well before Hater was due to arrive. 

It was the stupid Zbornak that posed as the biggest issue, most of the time laying waste to Hater’s army with two swings of the infamous _Lady Haymaker and Duchess of Wailing_. Even so, he had gone into hand to hand combat with Sylvia plenty of times to know her innerworkings, to know the minute details of her movements, from how to dodge a swing of her tail, to the way she twitched her nose when she was annoyed. He could take care of the Zbornak, he assured himself, no sweat.

He didn’t know why he found himself adjusting his uniform in the glassy black of the Skull-Ship’s hallways but there he was, nearly getting lost in fidgeting over the way his helmet rested along his eye till a Watchdog was running up in his direction.

“Sir, _sir_!”

With the abrupt interruption, Peepers suddenly realized how much he had been fretting over his reflection, shaking it off with a sharp glare in the frantic soldier’s direction. 

“What, _what_?!” Remembering where he was originally off to, Peepers walked and the nervous Watchdog followed, rubbing his sweaty palms together as he struggled to keep up with his swiftly moving superior.

“It’s just, it’s Wander sir, he’s here, he’s on the ship,” Quickly becoming disinterested in his subordinates ramblings, Peepers rolled his eye. “And the men, they don’t know what to do with themselves, he’s already giving out hugs and cookies, and brandishing the banjo—”

That grabbed Peepers attention as the two made their way through the rows of revolving fangs decorating some of the immediate hallways.

“Grop, he’s already got the banjo out?” Peepers scoffed. “He can’t turn off the ‘ _charm_ ’ for even two seconds, can he?”

“Looks like it, sir, the Watchdogs are _already_ swooning—”

A venomous look from Peepers stopped the soldier in his tracks, nearly sending him toppling forward before he caught up with his angry commander.

“I, I mean!” The Watchdog nearly melted under Peepers heated stare. “The Watchdogs are eyes up and standing on the very tips of their toes, ready to attack at your command, Commander Peepers, _sir_!”

“Yeah,” Sounding unconvinced, Peepers snorted, shooting the quivering soldier a derisive look before pushing the doors to the foyer open. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

As expected, Peepers saw little of the Watchdogs engaging in full ‘ _threaten and intimidate the scraggly vagrant mode,_ ’ as they flocked around Wanderer, the crowd full of the stock sounds of giggling and cheering. On top of it, adorning both sides of the room, were paper streamers, making Peepers shake his head in exhaustion. 

“They haven’t been at attention since _he_ got here, have they?”

“Nope,” Peepers shoulders visibly tensed at the familiar, _feminine_ voice beside him. A quick look forward confirmed that the Watchdog once at his side was now lost in the festivities, one of the many of his fleet to be reaching towards the nomad in front of him, eye wide with amazement. 

“The Watchdogs took one look at Wander and, heck, they sort of just fell in love,” Peepers could hear the sneer in Sylvia’s words, glaring forward at the cheerful scene before them in an attempt to avoid her. “Seems to be a bit of a symptom going around on The Skull-Ship recently, hm? _Falling in love_ with Wander?”

Peepers let out a rigid sigh as he shot a sideways glare in Sylvia’s direction, reluctantly addressing her. “Zbornak.”

Sauntering a little ways past him, Sylvia gave a flick to Peepers’ helmet, hard enough to send it spinning sideways across his head. “Pipsqueak.”

Straightening out his helmet with an audible growl, Peepers watched with full loathing as Sylvia leaned herself casually against the hallway’s wall. Ignoring him, she seemed fixated on the pile of Watchdogs that were reaching over in awe to touch Wander’s banjo.

Peepers had given his men the explicit order not to hurt Wander once it was confirmed that indeed, he was coming onto the ship in peace. He did not, however, tell the crowd to fawn over him, or to sit in a semi circle and watch as the weirdo gave an impromptu musical lesson. His blood was already searing, but he was determined to keep his cool around the Zbornak, knowing she took joy in his fury; she was probably reveling in it.

“Call me a snorbling flarpdresser,” Sylvia said with a shake of her head, shooting a look back at Peepers. “But I never thought I’d see the day. I mean, sure, I guess it kind of makes sense—Wander constantly trying to tend to Hater, Hater’s obsessing—doesn’t make it any less weird, though.”

“Man, imagine the Galactic headlines about this one, huh?” Sylvia sighed as she produced her cellphone, the corners of Peepers eyelid raising like hackles as she snapped a picture of the Wander-Watchdog group hug. 

“I see it now, on the cover of _Space Blorp_ ; _The Galaxy’s Friendliest Face and Self-Proclaimed Number-One-Super-Star: Dating_!?” Sylvia waved dramatically before snorting. “How’s that for this year’s ‘ _power couple_ ,’ huh?”

“Think about it!” Sylvia’s voice was full of sarcasm. “What will they say when they find out Lord Hater, the most evil-doer to ever do, is going to the side of—”

“ _Enough_!”

Peepers snarl was near loud enough to echo as he marched in Sylvia’s direction, quivering with rage.

“This,” Peepers motioned at the air. “ _Whatever_ is going on between Lord Hater and Wander doesn’t change a thing about Lord Hater or his powerful and evil empire! He is still full of hate, he’s still a galactic conqueror, he’s mean, brutish, imposing, and the Greatest in the Galaxy! No one, Wander and his moronic, happy-go-lucky vernacular included, will change that.

“Nothing is going to change, this is just another bump in the awfully annoying and strange highway we call our ‘ _relationship._ ’ You’re still the Zbornak, he’s still the annoying, scruffy weirdo, and we’re still the totally awesome bad guys, it’s as simple as that!”

Crossing her arms, Sylvia blinked down at Peepers, clearly unimpressed.

“Are you finished?” Raising both brows, she shook her head at the commander standing below her. “I hope that was an attempt to convince yourself because Grop, that was a little hard to watch.”

“You could end this, Zbornak,” Peepers reminded her, hands fisting at his sides, eye narrowing in challenge. “You could take the first step in preventing this disaster. You know where the door is, you can scoop up your little friend there and walk out right now, calling it quits.”

“Mmm, yeah, I could,” Giving an indignant sniff, Sylvia looked back in Wander’s direction, watching as he took out his cellphone, no doubt sharing some of the exchanges between Lord Hater and himself.

“Look, trust me when I say this is pants-on-head ridiculous for me too. Will it be hilarious to see Lord Hater struggle and you be miserable? Yes, absolutely, without a doubt.”

“But,” Sylvia shrugged her shoulders with a sigh. 

Briefly, with the rigid way she deadpanned at the ceiling, frown at all, Peepers saw her reserve slip into something more akin to resentment. 

“What’s more important is that Wander likes him. Him, as in Lord Hater, Biggest- _Baby_ -in-the-Galaxy. Wander likes him and all his immaturity, emotional hang ups, and insecurities, the whole lot of them, so,” Breathing heavy out through her nose, she frowned back down at Peepers. “I am just as obligated as you are.”

‘ _Well_ ,’ Peepers couldn’t believe he was saying this, even if it was just to himself, as the Zbornak and he exchanged looks. ‘ _At least I’m not suffering alone in this._ ’

Peepers felt his own facade slipping away at the familiar squeak of sneakers behind him, just short of pleading with her. “We can’t stop this, not even if we work together?”

“Sorry, Peepers,” Sylvia’s attention was on the skeleton struggling behind them as she stepped past the Commander, her face suddenly firm. “Don’t think all the brains and brawn in the galaxy can stop this one.”

Peepers shoulders sagged, watching as she approached Lord Hater, who seemed to be fighting with his shoelaces. 

She was right: it was impossible, this was Wander and Lord Hater, after all. Although on opposing sides of the spectrum, both were headstrong when it came to their goals. At least on Hater’s end of things, he liked to get what he wanted, kicking and screaming if necessary.

It was all too apparent _who_ Hater wanted as the overlord watched Wander from a distance, bouncing on one foot, concentrating intently on the nomad rather than his poor tie job. Hater’s pupils were foreboding for Peepers as they morphed into the shape of throbbing hearts, up until his leader tripped over his own feet when he tied his fingers into his sneakers.

“ _OOF_!”

“Sir!” Peepers rushed to Hater’s side, who, in a frenzy, was making things worse as he pulled at the mess that were his shoelaces.

“Grop darn it Peepers, this is what happens when you make me rush!” Hater hissed as said commander carefully undid his binds.

“Alright sir, relax, I got you, just—can you stop pulling!?” Peepers huffed as he untangled his fingers. “What are these made out of, teflon?!”

“I thought it would be cool!” Hater whined, trying to look over Peepers shoulder, his panic only getting worse. “Did anyone see, oh _Grop_ , did Wander see!—”

“Oh, trust me,” Sylvia already had her camera phone out as she recorded the whole thing. “ _Someone_ is going to see the whole thing, but nah, your Watchdogs are keeping Wander plenty busy.”

That seemed to quell Hater just long enough to stop his fidgeting, giving Peepers enough time to slip the laces apart. Lord Hater stood up and dusted himself off, throwing Sylvia his usual scowl before directing it at his troops.

“Yeah, _Peepers_ , what’s up with that!?” Hater scoffed as Wander and few select, overly excited Watchdogs handed out drinks from a refreshment table. “Ignoring the fact Wander is lifting even a finger to serve the Watchdogs, they’re supposed to be making an announcement to my grand entrance!”

“Besides!” Hater stepped past Peepers to stomp in the direction of the crowd. “Now he isn’t paying attention to—!”

Hater skidded to a halt by the heels of his feet when he came face to face with a smirking Zbornak.

“What,” Rearing his head back, Hater settled on his trademark glower. “do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t _The Greatest Hero that ever Ransacked and Pillaged_ ,” Hater didn’t trust Sylvia’s smile as she placed an arm around his shoulder, escorting him in the opposite direction of the celebration behind them. With the way Peepers followed close behind, he didn’t seem to trust her either. “I just don’t see what the rush is, is all.”

“Wander is preoccupied at the moment, anyway, what with the helping, I just need to have a few words with you,”

Sylvia threw a look back at Peepers. “Alone.”

“Pfft,” Peepers dismissed her with a wave. “Anything you have to say to Lord Hater, you can say in front of me, right sir?!”

Hater frowned between Sylvia and Peepers not once but twice, until he momentarily settled his vision on Wander in the foreground.

“...Whatever,” Hater pushed at her hand on his shoulder, just short of smacking it off, before he nodded down the hallway. “Let’s get this over with.”

“But sir!” Peepers looked on between the two, full of dread, because he knew exactly what would be asked of him next.

“Take care of Wander, Peepers,” It took everything within Peepers not to convulse in anguish. 

“Give him what he wants, when he wants it, I don’t care how stupid or joyful, I don’t care how steep. And stop the men from touching him, they’re getting their chubby, greasy Watchdog hands all over him.”

"Yes, sir," Peepers said, his whole body, eyelid included, drooping in displeasure, clearly sounding upset over the idea as both Hater and Sylvia took down the corridor.

‘ _Great,_ ’ Peepers thought as he straightened himself out, shooting a dirty look after the two. Stuck on Wander-sitting duty, of course—just what did she have to say to Hater that he couldn’t hear, too, huh?!

Thoroughly miffed, Peepers turned on one heel, head held high, chest puffed out, and helmet straight. With every intention of doing the best flarping job at patrolling the festivities, Peepers instead found himself crashing backwards when coming face to face with a very solid, _very_ fuzzy, presence.

An eyeful of Wander’s chest sent Peepers tumbling to the floor but of course, Wander seemed oblivious as he smiled down at the commander.

“ _Commander Peepers~_!” Peepers cringed at the familiar sing-song of his name, unable to believe he’d hate the sound of his own theme.

Peepers willed the floor to engulf him whole, or for the ceiling to collapse in on him, but when neither worked, he stood up and composed himself, in no way sharing Wander’s sentiments.

“Hello,” Peepers took in Wander’s appearance, which was no different than usual. Still looking hairy and unkempt, with his ragamuffin hat and his facial hair, Peepers fought not to turn his eyelid up in contempt at Hater’s choice. 

It still mystified him that Hater could be so infatuated with the mess of hair in front of him, listening to hours upon _days_ since the two last met about how much Hater missed him. 

Unfortunately, thinking about it for too long made Peepers imagine the two of them being intimate, of them kissing and _groping_. Peepers insides felt queasy as he forced back a shudder.

“ _Wander._ ”

And just like that, Wander was back to his excitable self, looping his arms around the commander, pulling him into a hug despite his open noise of protest. 

“Oh, Peepers, hello t’you too, y’cutie, you! It’s been forever!”

“Not,” Peepers was half expecting his spleen to rupture from Wander’s overly eager squeezing. “Long. Enough!”

“Oh, y’think so?” Wander set him down as he swung his hat from off his head, scratching thoughtfully. “S’been a few weeks since Hater and me last saw each other,” 

Wander blushed and giggled at what Peepers presumed were memories from their last night spent together, and he felt his stomach turn. “I feel like it’s been _too_ long!”

“I was beginin’ t’think maybe Hatey didn’ wanna see me again,” Peepers internally groaned; if only. “It took him a lil’ while t’ask me back over, is all ‘m sayin’.”

Taking in Wander’s smitten appearance, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to see that it looked like, perhaps, Wander really did like Hater, although it would make it that much harder destroying him, unfortunately.

“Oh,” Peepers stepped around Wander as he quickly reverted back to his prideful self, despite there recently not having much to be proud about. “He’s just been busy being the single most ruthless, powerful tyrant in the brand-spanking new galaxy, you know, the _ush_.”

“Oh, yeah?!” Wander cocked his head to the side as he pulled his hat back on, this time smoothing down his chin hairs as he thought out loud. “I don’t remember Hatey mentionin’ any of that in his messages,” Peepers eye flew open with the sound of shattering glass. “But I’ll take y’word for it, Mr. Peepers!”

“ _Lord Hater_ ,” Peepers nerves were back to being frayed as he turned to look up at Wander. “Has been plenty busy. Besides, with you perusing the galaxy like you usually do, he probably was afraid—I mean _hesitant_ —to ask you!”

“Yeah?” Peepers noticed Wander’s eyebrows lower and his smile weaken, nearly taking him by surprise. 

“It really feels like it’s been decades since I last saw and him, even with us textin’ back and forth, and well, s’only been a few weeks! S’why ‘m really hopin’ this date goes extra special, so if it ain’t any trouble or anythin’, I was hopin’ t’make a lil’ stop in the kitchens before we go? Hater said he’s takin' me somewhere and I wanted t’pack us up some dinner! Is that too much t’ask, Peepers?”

The idea of Hater and Wander spending “quality time” alone together in Hater’s van nearly traumatized Peepers at the mere thought of it, yet he forced himself to smile with his eyelid, how stiff and crooked it may have been.

“Oh, _suuuuuure_! It’s not like I’m completely and painfully too over qualified to chauffer you around, or have a whole empire to manage," Peepers voice was openly strained, but Lord Hater had given him a direct order to follow, if he wanted to do it or not. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

‘ _And besides_ ,’ Peepers wanted to cry at the cold, awful truth of it all.

‘ _I better get used to him_ ,’ because if the date went well, it didn’t look like Wander was going anywhere anytime soon.

“Are y’sure!?” Wander’s eyes lit up at the idea of company. “Y’don’t wanna join y’friends down there at the party?”

Peepers could hear the clear sounds of slacking off and laughter from his men as they more than likely ate all the hors d'oeuvre and played patty-cake on the tongue of the Skull-Ship. He was already setting up a full list of sanctions and punishment he would deal towards the troops later that evening as even more passed by, looking excited to join in on the hoopla.

“Oh, no,” Peepers lied; even if it meant dealing with a group of rowdy, foolish Watchdog’s, he’d rather be with them than Wander. At least with the boys, he could reprimand as he pleased, not swallow it down to appease Lord Hater’s _new friend_. 

“No, _please_ , allow me to escort you to the galley.”

Wander’s eyes brightened and crinkled in the corners with joy, but before Peepers could stop him from getting too close, he was already grabbing Peepers by the arm, pulling him down the hallway. Instinctually, Peepers clawed at the air with his free hand, leaving gouges in the wall as he was dragged along by the nomad.

“Alrighty then, y’don’t have t’tell me twice! Besides, now we can hang out! I dunno how much Hater has told you-—I know he can be a lil’ shy,” Wander chuckled, Peepers already deeply regretting his decision. “But m’ol gal Syl and I have been searchin’ out this whole new galaxy and let me say, it’s been quite a ride!”

“Oh, Grop help me,” Peepers said to the ceiling as Wander lugged him across the floor. “Dear Grop, give me strength!”

Now that Hater was with Sylvia and himself stuck with Wander, Commander Peepers felt like he was getting the short end of the stick with what he was left to deal with.

\---

Hater was furious.

This was not how he had meant to start off his first (real) date: following behind the tail of some big, brutish Zbornak. Glaring after her resentfully, Hater was unsure of what she had in store for him, but he had suggested they could “talk” in the soundproof confines of a conference room.

It wasn’t like he could take her into the War Room, Peepers would have an stroke with all the classified information he claimed to store in there. The conference rooms were closer, anyhow, and Hater wanted to get this little detour over with as soon as possible.

He considered the fact that she was trying to ambush him; he wasn’t a fool despite what she thought, he knew of her strength, but he took comfort in knowing that Wander more than likely instructed her not to. 

Thinking of Wander simultaneously made Hater want to groan and his heart ache: groan, because that meant he couldn’t beat her up, and ache, because the date was supposed to start a while ago, and here he was, stuck with the stumpy Zbornak!

“What exactly,” Hater’s voice was seething with annoyance. “is _so_ important that you have to bother me today, of all days?”

“Relax, Hater, there’s no need to get your _gown_ in a knot,” Sylvia snorted, until she caught sight of a Watchdog escorting a platter of finger food towards the lobby. Easily picking the plate up from off his hands, she threw one into her mouth before speaking. “If you think I’m letting you take Wander out of here without speaking to me, you got another thing coming.”

“I can take Wander anywhere I want,” Hater snorted as he cut in front of her, pushing on the door to one of the Skull-Ship’s many conference rooms without bothering to hold it open for her. 

“He think— _knows_! I’m cool, and handsome, and he laughs at my jokes, _and_ he loves my lightning powers,”

Hater crossed his arms and shot her a dirty look, daring her to say otherwise. “He _like_ likes me!”

Popping another puff into her mouth, Sylvia’s blinked at him, unimpressed by his behavior. It only took a few moment before her staring unnerved him; what was she planning on telling him, anyway? Was she about to admit something to him? Did they plan this together? He thought the worst: did Wander maybe _not_ like him? Fear ebbed at Hater, although it quickly turned into anger as he snarled at her.

“Did you just drag me in here to stare at me or talk?!” When she continued to merely toss food into her mouth, her face as hard as stone, Hater gestured wildly at the air in outrage.

“ _WHAT ARE YOU EVEN LOOKING AT!?_ ”

“You,” Sylvia answered, her voice as flat as her expression. “More specifically, I’m trying to see what _Wander_ manages to see in you.”

Taking a seat at the head of the table—a spot reserved for Hater during meetings—Sylvia let out a tired sigh, letting the nearly empty dish clatter to the table. “Oh, I know he likes you. _Why_ is the real question,” she uttered under her breath. 

“But trust me when I say,” Sylvia’s face matched the contempt in her tone. “He tells me all the time that he _like_ likes you too.”

Hater felt his resolve melt away, eyes going wide, mouth dropping open just slightly in awe. 

“Really? I, I mean” Hater cleared his throat, trying to act a little less desperate as he casually leaned against the table. “Does he talk about me a lot? Does he say anything about, like, wanting to be with me, maybe even wanting to _date_ me, by any chance?”

“Oh, he talks about you a lot,” Sylvia snorted, obviously unhappy about it. “Constantly, actually, it’s nothing short of brutal.”

“He does, huh?” Hater, oblivious to her displeasure, took a seat across from her, dragging his chair closer. “What does he say?! Anything about the dating thing, or?”

Again, Sylvia blinked at him, frown stretched wide across her face, as she leaned back and twiddled her thumbs, giving Hater a calculative look.

“Do you know the story of how I met Wander?”

“Uh, no?” Quite frankly, Hater could care less, more interested in hearing what Wander had to say about him. “We don’t talk about _you_ when we’re together, Zbornak.”

“Is that so?” Sylvia could hardly contain the smugness in her voice as she popped another puff into her mouth. “You know, I’d say that you two probably do very little talking together, but we both know that’s not true, _Mr. Let’s-Share-Our-Feeling’s_.” 

Successfully shutting up a very green Hater, Sylvia continued with what he dreaded was a long and awful story. Even so, he was a little bit curious about how the two met, considering the mystery revolving around Wander.

“That’s what I thought,” Sylvia snorted under her breath before continuing. “Now, where was I, before you _rudely_ ,” Hater was back to glaring at her. “Interrupted me.”

“I,” 

Hater raised his brow slightly when Sylvia sighed, squeezing the bridge of her snout before looking at him with a dulled expression. She sounded not all too proud of herself when she finally did speak up. 

“I was soft of—emphasis on _sort of_ —a bad guy.”

Now that piqued Hater’s interest. 

“Sort of?” He challenged, looking Sylvia up and down with a frown; he expected an answer full of sunshine and rainbows, the usual Wander status quo, and maybe in her case, _Bloyd’s_ , but certainly not that.

“Sort of, yes,” Sylvia reiterated, giving a roll of her shoulders. “Look, it wasn’t a good time in my life, it’s not something I typically am proud of, but, I sort of ran with the wrong crowd—”

“Who, that jerk Ryder?” Hater scoffed, still sore over the loss of his storage unit and the priceless items in it. “Guys thinks he’s all that and a bag of _chrzrps_ , I hate that guy.”

“Yes, he was one of them, yes, he’s a total jerk, which I learned after he left me in some fairly awful situations,” Sylvia still looked bitter, brow low, lips crooked in distaste. “And he was the reason why I was in need of some hard earned cash by the time I met Wander.

“You see, I was fairly new to this part of the nebula, but was already pretty well established as a bounty hunter in the tri-galaxy area—it was fast cash with not much of a paper trail, and a good amount of these bozos I had already crossed paths with. I knew how they ticked and how they liked to fight, which always put me ahead of the game.

“Then I came across this wanted poster, and let me tell you, whoever wanted Wander?” Sylvia scoffed, raising both her brows. “They wanted him _bad_ , because he had the highest bounty posted on the board.

“Sound familiar?” Sylvia threw him a sideways look, not without a glower.

“Mmm, yeah,” Hater took a deep breath, giving a nod of his head. Wander, annoy someone enough to post a massive, intergalactic bounty? Oh, that sounded _very_ familiar to Hater, indeed. “Yeah, I could see that.”

With a snort, Sylvia continued, rolling her eyes in his direction. “Yeah, well, _anyway_ , as I said, I needed cash, _bad_ —let’s just say I had angered a few more jerks along the way—and this little, orange fellow was the ticket to get them off my back. 

“Unlike the rest of my usual bounties, I didn’t know anything about him. Grop, the bounty didn’t even list a name,” Sylvia admitted with a shrug. 

“He didn’t hang out at any scummy clubs, let alone have a blood trail. I was beginning to think the poster was a fake, because no one could find the guy. A picture of him politely tipping his hat with a big smile right on the flarpin’ poster wasn’t helping, he didn’t look like your typical target. 

“So, I get to this waste of a planet, the fuzzy, little orange guy the furthest thing on my mind when I land. I’m just about to set off looking for somewhere, anywhere in a hundred thousand mile radius that sold even a drop of _Thunder Blazz_ before I see him—sitting on a rock, in full lotus position, as still and unassuming as a bounty hunter could want—before that stupid Kill-Bot 85 showed up.”

“Oh! I know that guy!” Hater couldn’t help but interject, ignoring Sylvia’s look of condescension.

“You know his successor,” Sylvia corrected. “And let me tell you, 85 was a _way_ better bounty hunter if 86’s blunder was anything to go by.”

Hater crossed his arms, fully aware she was mocking him. “That was stupid Peepers’ fault.”

“Yeah, well, either way, 85 succeeded where 86 failed—not without a lot of work and _my_ help, let me tell you,” For the first time since entering the conference room, a doting smile found Sylvia’s lips, one Hater was realizing was reserved for her best friend alone. 

“As soon as 85 took just one step towards him, Wander was on him, waking up from his trance with a big smile and a ‘ _why hello there!_ ’ completely oblivious to the full arsenal of weapons pointing at him.

“I’ll never forget,” Sylvia shook her head with a soft laugh. “Thinking I had never seen anything that could remotely move so fast as to dodge that many lasers before in my life. I’ve been in my fair share of _Yezurpian Stand-Offs_ to see some crazy stuff, but, man! I was impressed. And daunted. All by this little, fuzzy guy who was jumping back and forth, avoiding every shot 85 fired, and asking this robot if was looking for something, if he was lost, if he needed _help_ , because according to this little weirdo, it _never hurt to help_ , even with a 9-gauge laser shooter to the side of your head.

“At that point, I had seen enough,” Hater, with his mouth agape and his brow high, was hanging by the edge of his seat. “A good ‘ _HEY_!’ in their direction made them look my way, but 85 had the satchel ready and was snatching Wander up. There was _no_ way I was letting the little guy go.

“So there I am, caught in another fight—but a few good punches and a hard swing against a rock sent 85 to bits. He was a good bounty hunter,” Sylvia sighed, giving a shrug. “But he wasn’t as good as me, and well, that’s how I got Wander.”

“Okay, so,” Hater looked at her, gesturing at the air in confusion. “Cool story and all, but where’s the part where you two become ‘ _the best of buds_ ,’ or whatever?”

“I’m getting to it, bonehead!” Sylvia huffed, and Hater could tell with the intensity in her glare that it was a rather sensitive subject.

“As I was saying,” She said through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath.

“I was bringing him back to _Union Sqrzrp_ to trade him in on my star-hog when, low and behold, we get caught in a meteor shower. The forecasts said clear space, maybe a light dusting, but nothing about a torrential star shower. Not only does the bag rip open, there goes my hog and I’m thinking, ‘this is it, Syl, you’re finally getting what’s coming to you, you son of a flarf narbler,’

But then I find myself in an Orbble. With the orange, fuzzy guy. My bounty, who you know, I’m trying to trade in for cash, who says, ‘ _hey, what do you think of the name Wander?_ ’”

“And?” Hater blinked, unwilling to admit he wanted to hear more.

“And the rest was kind of history.” Sylvia admitted with a shrug. “After landing on that same planet, I quickly learned there wasn’t even anything remotely close to where I could get a _Thunder Blazz_ , let alone any type of goods, because it was completely barren. We had no more Orbble juice, my hog was crushed. And I was stuck with this guy, who apparently just named himself Wander.”

“Let me guess,” Hater snorted through his nose. “He changed you with the power of hearts, rainbows, and ‘ _wuv_?’”

“Sounds cliche,” Sylvia smirked in his direction. “But yep, pretty much. It was him helping out a group of _Saravalon_ ’s that got us off that planet and some more Orbble juice, and I was set. I thought, why not, if it’s not for me, I could always get up and go. It kept my nose clean, and I would get to travel. Yeah, the whole ‘helping’ thing was new, but it seemed to make this little stranger happy, why couldn’t it work for me?

“Hater,” Sylvia’s stare bore into him as she raised both eyebrows. “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

“Yeah,” Hater huffed, his throat constricting, as if he were swallowing down a golf ball. “Because he’s going to change me too, isn’t he? First he got Major Threat, then he got you, then he got whoever else because of course, the guy helps _everybody_ , and I’m next?”

“Pfft, no, I could care less about you,” Sylvia snorted, crossing her arms. “But I do care about him, and Grop only knows why, he cares about you, and from what it’s looking like, a whole lot.”

“Yeah?” Hater blinked, feeling a familiar flutter of excitement in his guts. 

“Yes,” Sylvia was back to glaring at Hater.

“Enough for him to slow down our traveling. Enough for him to nearly ignore a once in a lifetime, super-rare _Horned-Szlor_ migration. Enough to make him silent for hours on end, all because he’s glued to his cell phone, talking to _you_.” Slyvia murmured, irritated. “I didn’t even know the guy had a phone before the two of you started talking.”

Hater watched as Sylvia stood up from her chair, long neck straight and her chin set firm as she stared him down.

“I wish I could trust you Hater, but with the way you used to treat us? Your temper? Not to mention your self-proclaimed title as the Greatest Villain in the Galaxy?”

“It’s making it difficult, Hater,” A good, audible pop of her knuckles made him drop his sight to her hands. “ _Real_ difficult.”

Hater mustered up the nastiest glare he could as he stood and stared her down.

“Are you _threatening_ me, Sylvia?” Hater’s hands twitched with electricity. “What would _Wander_ say?”

“Threaten you? Me, threaten _the_ Lord Hater?” her amusement was noticeable as she taunted him. “Never, I usually stick to beating up on his ‘ _formidable_ ’ army, anyway.”

Hater, having enough of her mockery, pushed past her, steadily reminding himself that Wander adored Sylvia, he could not fry her, grab her by that long, goofy neck and blast her to smithereens, how badly he wanted to; executing your crush's’ best friend wasn’t the best way to start your date, no matter how entertaining it would be.

“Out of my way, I’ve heard enough!” Hater snorted, marching straight towards the door. “Thanks for the ‘enlightening’ story, but you’ve interrupted more than enough of my Wander time—”

Sylvia slid in front of the door, grasp firm on the handle. “Say it.”

The idea of strangling Sylvia was looking more and more appealing, Hater beginning to shake with rage. “Say _what_ , you frumpy, squat—!”

“Say it,” Sylvia challenged. “I, Lord Hater, the Greatest in all of the Galaxy, have a _crush_ on my most hated enemy, Wander.”

Hater blinked at her, tucking his arms back, feeling his frown melt away. “What?”

“You heard me,” With a cunning smile, Sylvia leaned back against the door, not without a flick to the tippy-top of his hood. “Loud and clear, don’t tell me otherwise. I want to hear you say it.”

“Um,” Hater swallowed, tapping the ends of his fingers together. “Word for word?”

“Word for word,” Sylvia clarified. “Hey, if you like him half as much as your text messages say you do,”

Hater slowly felt his fury returning at the ridicule in her tone. “It shouldn’t be so hard, right?”

With a deep breath, Hater glared angrily at the floor, clenching his fist in frustration. “And you’ll leave me and Wander alone?”

“Forever? _Ha_ , you wish,” Sylvia scoffed. “But for tonight?”

Looking him up and down with a disapproving frown, Sylvia finally caved, not without a deep, reluctant breath. “Yes.”

“I just have to copy what you said,” Hater’s nerves were beginning to show as he refused to meet her stare. “Word for word.”

“Yep.”

“But,” Hater tried, already starting to sweat. “We’re not even enemies anymore.”

“Say it, Hater,” Sylvia warned, sounding tired. “If you want anything remotely close to a blessing.”

“I, I don’t need your blessings!” With a disappointed sigh, Sylvia made a move to turn for the door. “No, _don’t_! Okay, I’m, I’m going to say it.”

A few moments of silence passed, the only sound in the room the recycling of the oxygen in the vents, before Hater cleared his throat.

“Uh,” Hater started. “...What did I have to say again?”

“That’s it,” Sylvia snorted, reaching to turn the handle. “I’m going and taking Wander right along with me.”

“ _NO!_ ” Hater’s whole face turned green with electricity as he grabbed her by the arms. “I, Lord Hater, the Greatest in all of the Galaxy, have a crush on my most hated enemy, Wander!

“Me, Hater. Him, Wander. I like him, I like him a lot, I, I even think he’s kind of cute!” Hater was babbling as he shook Sylvia by the shoulders. “Okay, yes, he’s still annoying, but it just because he’s so cute, and he’s so cute that he, he makes me nervous, he makes me _feel_ , feel _things_! And even if he is constantly giving out hugs, or, or playing the stupid banjo, I _like_ him, he’s soft, cuddly, and he’s, he’s a good kisser, and now I know he’s really sensitive along—”

“Ugh, _enough_!” Sylvia snarled. “I’ve heard enough, good Grop, can you let me go? Before I _make_ you let me go!”

“Yeah, well!” Hater released her, not without wiping his hands along his robe. “Can you move?!”

Huffing and looking off towards the side, Hater could still feel the annoying flush on his face. “I sort of worked really hard on this date and I want to get it started, I kinda, maybe,” Hater’s voice dropped in volume as he hunched his shoulders defensively. “Miss him, can I see him already!?”

Sylvia took in the appearance of Hater shuffling his sneakers shyly against the floor, the blush on his face, and the pitifully embarrassing waves of apprehension coming off him, before moving aside.

“Fine.”

Hater blinked at her in relief, and his heart nearly flipped over in his ribs at the thought of finally spending time with Wander.

Up until the part she fisted the front of his robes and yanked him forward, teeth gritted and eyes ablaze. 

“But if you harm a single strand of hair on his head, Hater, I will hunt you down, find your sorry, boney butt and _ruin_ you, I will burn your skeleton into ash,” Sylvia swore, voice full of venom. “Got it?!”

Hater shrunk slightly under the visible flames in her eyes, fighting not to quiver. “Y-Yes scary, Zbornak-lady.”

“And if you treat him in anyway resembling the way you treated _Linguini Von Breadstick_ —”

“Pfft, like there is even a comparison,” With the way Sylvia growled and raised her jowls, Hater could tell it wasn’t the exact answer she wanted to hear, and he corrected himself. “I, I mean!”

“I kinda, sort of learned,” Hater kicked at the floor stubbornly, looking up at her like a petulant child. “From Wander’s lessons for _Lord Doof-inator_.”

Hater was secretly praying that Wander’s lessons would finally pay off.

“Good,” Sylvia smiled as she released him, not without a good push. “I think I got my point across well enough, let’s find Wander and the optic-nerd, shall we?”

“About time, Wander’s probably wondering where I am, thinking about me and stuff.” Hater’s bitterness returned, even after she finally opened the door. 

Yes, he was nervous—it had felt like forever since he’d last seen Wander—but he wanted to get the heck away from Sylvia and her maniacal threats. “Peepers better be taking good care of him, if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Oh, I’m sure he knows you’re fine. But it’s nice to see you worry over him,” Sylvia smirked back at him as he made her way down the hall, not without grabbing another plate from out of the arms of a server. “ _Hatey-Baby_.”

Turning positively emerald, Hater followed behind Sylvia all the way down to the kitchens, full of gruesome thoughts of torture that involved an annoying, dumpy Zbornak...

\---

By the time Lord Hater and Sylvia departed for the kitchens, Commander Peepers was just short of blowing a fuse.

It was clear to see Peepers’ dwindling self restraint in the tense muscles of in his shoulders as he glared at an ever oblivious Wander beside him, who was happy to chatter on endlessly.

“...And look, maybe it ain’t _my_ place, who am I t’say _anythin’_ about the intricacies of buildin’ an inter-dimensional space-portal,”

“Uh-huh,” Peepers sounded strained and unwilling to answer as he held up a picnic basket for Wander to fill.

“But I said t’the guy, ‘ _maybe—jus’ a bit of’a suggestion here, sir, y’can take it or leave it,’_ ” Wander gestured with a head of lettuce as he continued on, despite Peepers’ clear dislike of the conversation. 

“Rather than usin’ it t’reign seerin’ acid on the ancestors of your naysayers, what if y’use it t’take a lil’ time off t’ _learn_ about where your naysayers came from, rather than destroy ‘em! A whole lotta _misunderstanin’s_ between two villains are jus’ a lack of _understandin’_ , anywho.”

“Is that so?” Peepers looked unconvinced. “Has it ever crossed your mind that, I don’t know, some people actually _like_ being evil and destroying others?”

“Oh, that’s definitely one way t’look at it, but I like t’think,” Wander hugged a bundle of napkins close as turned to face him with a smile. “Those are all the folks who haven’t tried t’lend out a helpin’ hand yet! If those people jus’ tried t’see how nice it is t’help, they wouldn’t wanna hurt others!”

“Not everyone is good,” Peepers huffed as he threw a satchel of forks and knives into the picnic basket, angrily so.

“‘Cause not everyone gives bein’ a good a try,” Suggested Wander amiably. If he noticed Peepers snort, he didn’t comment on it as he carefully cut off the crusts of Hater’s sandwich—just like Peepers told him.

“Whatever,” Knowing it was a losing battle, reluctantly, Peepers turned to Wander with a frown as he placed the picnic basket on the counter. “So did he?”

“Hm?” Wander blinked over at Peepers, already moving on from the conversation.

Peepers scowled at Wander in disbelief. “ _Iznanian the Terrible_ , did he reign acid on the ancestors of his enemies or not?!”

“Oh,” Wander chuckled, waving at the air with a knife full of mustard. “After we did a little talkin’, we found out we had a mutual like for scrap bookin’ and free form jazz, so we windin’ up dismantlin’ all the parts t’the portal and givin’ ‘em away to all the poor town folk, so they could build themselves better, sturdier homes!”

Facing away from him, Wander missed the soft tremble in Peepers hands as he reached for the nomad’s neck, although both Lord Hater and Sylvia from the doorway had front row seats. “I like t’think we all learned that Iznanian wasn’t so terrible after all, huh?”

“Wander, buddy!” Quickly reaching for Wander with her tail, Sylvia pulled him close, not without a look of disapproval in Peepers direction. “Are you two having fun here?”

“Oh, loads!” Wander said happily as he extended his arms around her. “Peepers here was jus’ helpin’ me get the picnic basket for tonight ready!”

Meanwhile, Hater grabbed at the collar of Peepers uniform, turning away from the hugging pair to hiss down at him. 

“What in Grop’s name do you think you’re doing, Peepers!? I told you to take care of Wander, not _choke_ him!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Peepers sounded openly distressed, the corners of his eyes pink from exhaustion. “He’s just—he’s just so flarpin’ _good_ , and his, his stories of peace and magic and love, I don’t think, I _can’t_ ,

“You’re a saint for dealing with him, sir, you’re, you’re a stronger man than me,” Peepers grabbed at the front of Hater’s robes, eye bloodshot as he pressed himself close. “But you don’t pay me enough for this, Lord Hater, sir, you _owe_ me!”

Before Hater could give Peepers the shock of his lifetime, a familiar, chipper voice purred behind him, Hater dropping Peepers forgotten to the ground.

“Oh, _Hatey_ ~!”

Hater sprang up, as stiff as a board, as he turned to the Wanderer calling his name behind him. Now unraveled from Sylvia, Wander stood at the other side of the kitchen with bright eyes and a trembling smile, a small sound of excitement vibrating in his throat.

At the sight of him alone, Hater felt a stirring in his insides, and not one necessarily low in his robes. He felt a tight, burning in his chest and a tickle in his stomach that under any other circumstance, he would have blamed on indigestion, but he knew otherwise. When Wander ran across the room and threw his arms around his neck, happily squealing and cuddling close, Hater knew that he, for the first time, felt butterflies at the sight of someone else.

“Hatey!” Wander’s feet were on the ground but he bounced up and down on his toes, grabbing affectionately at the sides of his skull. “Oh, m’Hatey, m’Hatey, I missed y’so much!”

“Y-you did?” Of course, Hater couldn’t help but get flustered at the sight of his crush, feeling his face turn green under Wander’s hands. 

“Yes!” The magnetic pull of Wander’s eyes drew Hater’s face closer. “Even with us talkin’ back and forth, every night and every day—it jus’ wasn’t the same as when ‘m with you!”

“Yeah?” Hater’s hands moved on their own as the took Wander by the waist, crouching low so they were finally face to face. 

“I couldn’ stop thinkin’ about you again,” Wander admitted with a chuckle, cheeks turning a darker shade of orange.

“Grop, you too!?” Hater admitted, his brow raising, feeling a little more comfortable with Wander’s admission. 

“I mean, like, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after the first time, but now I _really_ can’t stop thinking about you, I thought maybe I was having an aneurysm or something—”

“Nope, I think that’s normal!” Wander assured Hater, not without a peep of joy, running a hand affectionately over one of his antenna. “Did y’get m’pictures last night? The ones of me and the silver petunias?”

“Yeah, I got them,” Wander laughed as Hater brought him closer by the small of his back. Pressing his mouth against the giggling nomad’s neck, Hater spoke low enough to whisper, Wander purring contently in response.

“So, uh, did your hand slip or did you mean to—”

“ _AHEM_!”

Both Hater and Wander remembered that there was an audience in the room along with them, turning to look over at Peepers, Sylvia, and the various Watchdog’s from the cooking crew.

“I can’t believe it,” Peepers said, eye wide, voice full of despair. “I thought if I kept telling myself it wasn’t real—”

“Nope, it’s real,” Sylvia shook her head. “And it’s as cutesy and gross as I thought it would be.”

“Shut up, Sylvia,” Hater managed to mumble, face feeling on fire with the static of embarrassment as he pulled away from Wander. He did, however, reach for the little star nomad’s hand, who took it enthusiastically.

“Uh, yeah, so,” Hater turned to Wander. “You—you ready to go or what?”

“Yep! ‘M ready!” Wander said with a grin, still keeping his hold in Hater’s as he reached for the picnic basket. “I’ve been ready, believe me!”

“Yeah, well, _someone_ ,” Hater threw Sylvia a look of disdain, teeth clenched and eyes pointing like knives. “Felt the need to take up our precious dating time.”

“Get over it, Hater, like heck I was letting you take Wander out all night without you getting the business,” Sylvia pushed past him, placing both hands on Wander’s shoulders to squeeze. 

“You text me as soon as you settle, promise?”

“Promise!”

“Sir,” Hater felt a tug on his robes beside him, finding a very worried commander staring up at him. “Please don’t do anything stupid. _Please_.”

“Get off it, Peepers,” Hater snorted. “Everything is going to be fine, I’m coming back super evil, totally awesome—”

“And a massive idiot,” Slyvia chimed in.

“Can it, Zbornak!” Both Peepers and Hater yelled in unison.

“Alright, Hatey, why don’t we get goin’?” Wander suggested, not without a quick peck to Hater’s lips, making everyone fall completely silent.

Hater took a look around the room at the feel of multiple sets of eyes on him, and he could have sworn he heard the sound of a camera snapping in the distance.

“Well, um,” Hater fidgeted shyly, his troublesome sweating returning. 

This was it, his first date—his first _official_ date—with Wander, which he had been planning for what felt like an eternity. It was the same date that had him tossing and turning in bed for days, missing Wander, and praying that it all went well.

It was the date he planned on asking Wander to be his boyfriend.

“Um,” Hater cleared his throat, ignoring the way Peepers gagged and how Sylvia pushed him. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. These losers are cramping my style, anyway.”

“Really?” Wander and Hater held hands the whole way, even after exiting the kitchen. “I think Peepers is lovely, and y’know how I feel about m’ol’ gal Sylvia…”

Their voices trailed off, leaving the Watchdogs of the kitchen staff gaping behind them, voices quiet as they muttered amongst themselves, the gears of the rumor mill already in full churn.

“What are you all looking at!?” The scream of Peepers accusation shredded through the air like nails on a chalk board. “ _GET BACK TO WORK_!”

The group of Watchdogs hurriedly rushed back to their stations, dawning their hairnets and aprons and grabbing for their respective utensils, as Sylvia slid behind Peepers.

“And I thought I could be high-strung,” Sylvia said with a single, flat laugh. “Yeesh!”

“What are you still doing here, Zbornak?!” Peeper quickly rounded on her, not without the point of a finger.

“Well, last I heard,” Sylvia smiled as she reached for another helping of appetizers. “Wander asked that ol’ boss of yours, Lord Hater, if I could stay here during their little date.”

“Oh, grop,” Peepers said, pulling at his eyelid in despair. “Why!?”

“And he said yes,” Sylvia popped a mini quiche into her mouth, feigning sweetness as she ignored his cries. “So where am I staying, _Commander Peepers_?”

Peepers looked up at the ceiling, desperate for an out, wondering where in his contract it stated he had to deal with one very tormenting, powerful Zbornak, before relenting with a groan.

“This way,” Peepers fought not to cringe. “Sylvia.”

“That’s more like it,” She said with a belittling chuckle as she waited for Peepers to lead the way.

“Now, that wasn’t that so hard, was it?”

She took his silence as he stormed past her as a very firm “ _yes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we’re starting to get the show on the road! Sorry for, er, all the talks. And my abuse of the italics button. At least we’re seeing where Hater is taking Wander on his first date. Now we also get to see how Peepers and Sylvia deal being stuck with each other...
> 
> Again, thanks for reading guys, it means the world to me. Always feel free to comment, ask questions and critique, I always appreciate hearing what you say. Please feel free to stop by [my](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/) blog and chat me up, too!


	6. Chapter Six: The First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Wander being so talented and sweet, so _perfect_ , used to infuriate him, but now Hater was beginning to feel that Wander was perfect for _him_ , with his sensitivity, his patience, and the adorable blush staining his face then and there, as he fluttered his eyelashes up at Hater from the passenger seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Onto Chapter 6, holy crap, where has the time gone. I remember when this fic started out as a one shot in the Smooch Room, haha. Let me take the time to thank everyone who has kept around thus far; thanks for your patience, your kindness, you support. Thanks for every kudo, every comment, every reblog. Thanks to those lovely, talented people who have drawn art for this measly little fic.
> 
> Thanks again, aloneindarknes7, for editing 50 more pages worth of fluff for me.
> 
> I’d like to thank two amazing artists who drew art for the fic! Anytime someone actually finds my fic worth time to make art for I just— don’t know what to say, it’s an honor!
> 
> Thank you to [a-spoon-full-of-creatures](http://a-spoon-full-of-creatures.tumblr.com/) for [this](http://a-spoon-full-of-creatures.tumblr.com/post/151533227273/jeffrey-watchdog-draw-something-for) piece from chapter 5. It’s pretty clear in the show a lot of the times the Watchdog’s just want to play with Wander rather than hurt him lmao so it was nice to see it captured! Thank you so much!
> 
> Thank you to [extraordinarycircus](http://extraordinarycircus.tumblr.com/) for [this](http://extraordinarycircus.tumblr.com/post/152848033527/im-just-gonnaput-thishere%E0%B9%91-%E0%B9%91-%E3%82%9E) piece, it captures these dorks at their finest, blushes on their face and all, I am completely honored and humbled that you drew for the fic, thank you so much!
> 
> Alright, to chapter 6—enjoy!

So; this was it, Hater thought.

Their date.

Their _first_ date.

And right from the get-go, Hater was incredibly nervous.

It wasn’t like he had any real experience with dating. Okay, yes, he had tried dating, of all types, from speed to online, from blind to all too painfully visual, _numerous_ times. Yet, without fail, whether in person or digitally, whoever was on the other end of Lord Hater’s get together would either never call back, or never show at all. 

This was his first _real_ date with someone that actually seemed to, well.

 _Like_ like him. 

It wasn’t because Hater was his boss or because he was scared. It wasn’t _just_ because Lord Hater was the sexiest, suavest skeleton this side of the galaxy over.

It was because Wander generally seemed to _like_ like Hater, for him.

He _liked_ liked Hater, he had told him so. He wanted to make him happy. Heck, Wander said he was _nervous_ the night they spent together alone in Hater’s bedroom.

But if Wander was nervous now, however, he had Hater fooled completely. With the two of them holding hands, Wander swung their arms back and forth between their bodies, looking nothing short of calm and collected as he clung tight to Hater’s side.

Equipped with a picnic basket and his ever dazzling smile, Wander was practically skipping, legs moving quickly to keep up with the taller skeleton’s strides.

Prone to bouts of chit-chat, Wander was unusually quiet, not helping at all with Hater’s anxiousness, only humming happily to himself down the whole stretch of the hallway.

“So,” Hater tried, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked over in Wander’s direction. “You find our coordinates okay or…?”

“Hm?” Wander was still all smiles as he blinked up at Hater. “Oh! We found ‘em jus’ fine, we had been makin’ our way in your direction for a lil’ while now, anyway! It was easy with you guys not movin’ around much and all.”

“Yeah,” Hater didn’t need a reminder of the Skull-Ship’s lack of movement, mainly his empire’s lack of _planetary invasion_ —Peepers had been reminding him plenty. “No stops today?”

“Nope!” Wander answered with enthusiasm, his picnic basket swinging about in the crook of his elbow. 

“But, well,” Sounding sheepish, Wander grinned at Hater bashfully as he filled in the details. 

“Alright, there was a miss who needed her tire changed,”

“Mhmmm,” Hater was already rolling his eyes.

“Okay, _and_ that fella who needed his shoes tied.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh! And then there was Mrs. Berrily’s class, who had lost all their lunches after an unfortunate storage incident on their annual Star-Gazer’s field trip. We couldn’t jus’ leave ‘em there, stuck _and_ hungry! So Sylvia and me made a few dozen bagged-lunches on the way,” Wander gestured casually. 

“S’about it, though, nothin’ huge.”

Once annoyed by Wander’s knack of helping everyone _and_ everything in even the most extreme of situations, Hater was now nothing short of amazed. He wondered how the little guy found the time to sleep, to eat, to remember to breathe, with his compulsion to help so strong. 

“You did all that in one day,” Hater shook his head down at the little alien in awe. “And still managed to get here early?”

“Yup!” Wander shrugged, unfazed. Hater learned long ago, after many disheartening nights spent picking up the pieces of ruined schemes, that ‘ _assisting others_ ’ was just part of the pair’s typical regimen.

“Sylvia said she needed t’talk to you for a bit, so we decided to pop in a few minutes earlier. How’d that go, by the way?”

“Peachy,” Hater’s tone suggested otherwise, but Wander didn’t seem to notice, still smiling from cheek to cheek. Hater didn’t care to elaborate, though, feeling strangely on edge. From behind them, he swore he could hear the sound of boots shuffling, yet when Hater looked over his shoulder, he saw only an empty hallway.

"That’s good! She said was was gonna keep it short and sweet,” It took everything within Hater not to bark with sarcastic laughter. “While we’re on the subject, thanks again for lettin’ her stay on the ship tonight, Hater! It sure means a lot t’me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” So sure he heard whispering somewhere in the distance, Hater briefly turned backwards, narrowing his eyes when he found nothing. “All the less likely she will follow us, I’m doing us both a favor.”

“Speakin’ of our date,” Wander squeezed Hater’s hand with a giggle, oblivious to his suspicions. 

“Y’gonna go ahead tell me where we’re goin’ yet?”

Hater could feel himself getting agitated again, and the paranoia that they were being followed wasn’t helping. “How many times do I have to tell you, Wander, it’s a surprise!”

A surprise which was bit by bit making Hater all the more worried; the chances Wander had been to _Gorzalon-10_ before were high, despite its obscure nature. It didn’t matter how many moons it hid behind or how desolate of a sector, Wander had probably been there, which meant he wouldn’t be impressed, which meant he might be bored, which meant—

“Ohhh, still gonna keep me guessin’, are y’Hatey?” Wander let out a small squeak of excitement as he bounced up and down between steps. 

“I know I keep askin’ and ‘m sorry that I do, but gosh, ‘m excited! I’ve _been_ excited! Would y’believe me if I said I’ve been countin’ down the days?”

“Y-Yeah?” Sweat was gathering along Hater’s face at the thought, reminding him of his recent torment over dazzling Wander on their first date together. 

“I, I mean! Uh, yeah, I believe you, Wander, _duh_!”

With a voice full of bravado, Hater struggled to ignore the sound of footsteps behind them as he continued on nervously

“This _is_ your first, official, super awesome, _so-not-going-to-be-lame-and-or-awkward_ date with me—”

“Lord Hater,” Wander continued for him, voice full of zeal, as Hater tried to look past his hat, but to no avail. The nomad stepped right back into Hater’s line of sight quickly enough, sounding as hyped as he proclaimed. 

“Number One Super-Star, Greatest in the Galaxy!”

“Uh, yeah,” Hater blinked down at Wander, who looked up at him with elation, squeezing the picnic basket close as a means of containing himself. Unlike the majority of the galaxy, when Wander said his self-proclaimed merits, it was with love and honesty, not ridicule or disbelief. 

“Exactly?”

For the first time since leaving the kitchen, relief and tenderness swept over him. Now feeling somewhat reassured, Hater knew that the ever kind and sentimental Wander would enjoy himself no matter where Hater took him. 

Overtaken by emotion, Lord Hater felt unable to help himself. Bending his knees to lean down low, Hater intended to give the fuzzy, little alien a kiss, who was already standing on his tippy-toes, with come hither eyes and puckered-up lips.

That’s when Hater heard it, and it was undeniable. 

The stumble of feet, the quiet disapproving ‘ _dude!_ ’ that followed, and the distinct noise of scuffling bodies. 

Ripping away from Wander, Hater looked from side to side with fury, utterly convinced someone was following them.

“Okay, don’t even try to tell me you didn’t hear that!” Positive now that he wasn’t going crazy, Hater turned to Wander, who blinked back at him in confusion.

“Um,” Wander shrugged, looking from side to side in bewilderment. “Hear what, Hater?”

“Hear what—are you,” 

Hater refused to believe that Wander didn’t hear the clear sound of someone else’s voice from down the hallway. “That voice! The shuffling! The _whispering_!” 

“Oh, y’mean the Watchdogs?” Wander quipped happily, oblivious as ever to Hater’s internal unrest.

Hater blinked down at Wander incredulously. “What?”

“The Watchdogs!” Wander continued on, beaming as per usual. “Y’know! ’Bout two feet tall, with lightnin’ bolt helmets, an eye for a head, not t’mention, jus’ _utterly_ as cute as a button—”

“You mean my intimidating, fear provoking, and _incredibly_ disciplined soldiers?” Hater, with both hands now free, waved about the air in frustration. “Uh, yeah, Wander, I think know my own flarping men when I see them!”

“But Hatey,” Wander tried, lifting an inquiring finger, but Hater continued on, shoulders square and jaw firm as he crossed his arms in defiance.

“What does someone following us have to do with my loyal, dutiful army!?” Hater waved at the air, unconvinced. “Like they’d tempt both me and my unholy wrath by following us, _pfffft!_ They know better!”

“Well,” Wander tried, his smiling waning ever so slightly. “Hater,”

“It’s not like they’d dare leave their posts, even _if_ things have been quieter on the home-front. There is still a ship to protect, jobs to be done, a totally cool _and_ devil-may-care attitude to uphold,”

“ _Hatey!_ ” 

Wander finally grabbed a baffled Hater’s attention with the urgency in his tone. Letting himself be lead by the arm, Hater blinked down at Wander, who turned him around by the elbow with a giggle.

A cough in the distance made a very alert Hater straighten up and whip forward. Pulling his mouth back in a tight snarl, Hater’s fingers were full of bolts as he turned to face, once and for all, the culprit with enough gall to follow them. 

What he was greeted with, however, was no one individual: it was dozens, if not _thousands_ , of Watchdogs, standing a good few hundreds of feet away from their all too temperamental boss, but following after the rumored ‘ _enemies-turned-lovers_ ’ nevertheless. 

Hater’s army didn’t budge at first, blinking up at the two with eyes full of awe, the hype of the rumors once and for all proving true that indeed, Hater and Wander were an item...

But a good strike of lightning firing down the hallway and smoldering the ground mere inches away from them sent the mass of Watchdogs fleeing wordlessly, leaving Hater and Wander alone in seconds flat.

“Now, Hatey,” Still clutching Hater by the arm, Wander gave him a squeeze, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “They jus’ wanted t’see us off!”

“Pfft, no, they were being nosy!” Hater huffed, quaking with rage and green with embarrassment. “ _BESIDES!_ ”

Hater took a deep breath as a means of calming down, his tone dropping to a mere growl. “I don’t pay them to see us off, _I_ can see us off just fine!”

Taking Wander by the hand, Hater grumbled as he escorted him towards the parking garage, careful to make sure the smaller alien could keep up. 

“Aw, Hatey, they’re jus’ curious lil’—” 

Wander stopped mid sentence as he caught view of what was indeed a massive, although fairly empty, parking lot.

“ _Ooooh!_ ”

“Yep,” Hater shrugged, taking a look around the place as well. “The galaxy’s greatest and baddest ship has gotta have the biggest, most accommodating parking garage too, right?”

“Woah, Hatey,” 

Wander’s voice carried out over the multi-levels of the facility as Hater dug through his pocket for his keys. “This place is huge!”

“Yeah, well,” Hater made his way up the first of the interior ramps with Wander close in toe. “If you’re gonna throw the most sickest, tightest parties in the galaxy, you need a place to fit everyone’s ships and cars and the likes,” Hater murmured. 

“Emperor Awesome’s _lame-o_ ain’t got _nothing_ on my Skull-Ship.”

Quickly realizing Wander was bouncing excitedly beside him, Hater let go of his hand, ignoring his heavy lip of sadness

“Stay here,”

“Y’comin’ right back,” Wander was giving him those honeyed eyes that Hater begrudgingly missed. “Right?”

“Yes,” Hater scoffed, already walking ahead. “It’s part of the surprise, okay, don’t follow me!”

When Wander continued to watch him with big, sad eyes and a trembling pout, Hater stopped with a sigh.

“Can you—!” Hater ran a hand over his face, fighting not to shout at the abhorrently adorable Wanderer in front of him.

“I’ll be right back, I swear!” 

Finally, Wander was back to peeping in joy, a sight that Hater liked more than he ever dreamed possible. 

“Just don’t go anywhere, stay put.”

Wander nodded eagerly as Hater regarded him with a suspicion, knowing full well about his painfully short attention span. Only until Wander stood still, blinking up at him sweetly and clutching his picnic basket tight, did Hater will himself away. He was positive that if he spent one more moment looking at the cuteness that was the star nomad, he would have to kiss him all over again, and thus delay their date that much longer.

Where the dim, yellow lights of the car park ended, Hater walked, disappearing into the depths of the garage and leaving an antsy Wander alone. Bending his knees rhythmically, Wander hopped about in his spot, still clasping his basket close as he began to mutter out loud.

“ _Hates great, dates thrillin’,_ ” 

Wander sang to no one as he fought to keep still, audibly grinding the soles of his sneakers into the car park’s cement floor.

“ _Hangin’ out with m’favorite villain,_ ”

Soon enough, as expected, Wander’s curiosity got the best of him. With a cautious look about, he raised a single sneaker off the ground, hovering it delicately in attempt to take a soundless step forward, but the beep of a car alarm made him freeze in his spot.

Soon after came the rev of an engine, then the squeal of tires on concrete. Wander’s eyes grew wide as the brights of an oncoming vehicle approached, making him hug his picnic basket closer, till the car came to a complete stop a few feet away. 

Throwing up the parking brake and slipping out of the driver’s seat, Lord Hater threw a smile back at his van. 

“Say hello, Wander,” 

Stepping in front of the brights, Hater shielded Wander from their intensity, casting over him the outline of his shadow. With both hands on his hips and his head held high, Hater smirked down at Wander, positive in his abilities to impress him. 

“To my fully _tricked-out_ , six-speed—”

“Is,” Wander’s eyes, still wide, were quickly supplemented by a joyous smile once his shock wore away. 

“Is that a _Spodge Spaceman B600_!?”

“Uh,” Hater’s arms fell to his side as if he were deflated, the winds of confidence slipping right out from beneath him. 

“Yeah, you, you’ve seen one of these before?”

“Seen one?!” Wander was already racing past Hater, using the momentum of his small frame to swing himself against the door, off the floor and right into the driver’s seat. “I’ve _driven_ one!”

Adjusting the rear view mirror, Wander gave a squeeze to the steering wheel, gazing excitedly about the finished interior of the vehicle. “Jus’ not one nearly as cool as this!”

“Look at this custom paint job, the modded gear shift, the fuzzy dice!” Wander let out an excited squeal as a dumbfounded Hater approached, thumbing backwards towards the rear of the van. 

“Is that a carbon spoiler y’got on the back?”

Hater gaped at the air once or twice before he could finally answer, the worry of disappointing Wander making his insides squirm.

“Yeah, um, it is,” Hater had been so positive with the rarity of his van that Wander would have been floored—he certainly didn’t expect him to have seen one before, let alone _driven_ one! “you’ve actually _driven_ one of these?!” 

“Oh, Hatey, s’been years!” Wander giggled, letting out a fond sigh as his eyes rolled back, like he was remembering a slew of good memories.

“Not since m’days of touring with _Golorpian and the Znng-Zangs_ , Hatey, this is the _coolest_!”

With his stomach still twisting in knots, Hater felt a little reprieve at Wander’s enthusiasm, the nomad bouncing about happily in the driver’s seat. “Yeah? Like, you really,”

Hater didn’t try to hide his nerves this time. “You _really_ think it’s cool, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Hatey,” Wander turned to face him, grabbing onto both sides of his face and pecking him on the lips. 

“This is already startin’ out t’be the _coolest_ date in the universe!”

“Yeah?” Finally, Hater’s guts were gradually feeling less and less like they were shredding themselves from the inside out at the glee in Wander’s eyes. “You mean it?”

Wander nodded excitedly, once again hopping happily about in his spot.

Clearing his throat, Hater took a step back from Wander squirming in the front seat, not without a gentle pet down the alien’s back. “Well, then,”

Hater couldn’t help but huff, but it lacked his usual conviction. “Move your furry butt over, I’m driving.”

Wander didn’t need any more coaxing as he slid himself into the passenger seat, reaching for the seatbelt to click it into place. His chair audibly creaked as he bounced up and down in excitement.

Hater climbed in next, sitting himself behind the wheel, throwing a glare in Wander’s direction as he re-adjusted the rearview mirror to his liking. As he did so, fretting over it for a few good seconds, he just so happened to catch a glimpse of the alien in it’s reflection.

Smiling back at him, Wander was biting his lip in what looked to be a poor attempt to quell his frenzy over what he claimed was the ‘ _coolest date in the galaxy,_ ’ eyes full of wonderment and what Hater was slowly worrying, expectation. It was making Hater feel a little faint, his plans for the evening weighing heavily on his subconscious.

He was spending the whole night with Wander, on their first date, _alone_. Although it was starting off well enough, Hater felt the pressure of maintaining Wander’s excitement as his palms began to sweat against the steering wheel.

The fear of Wander being bored, unimpressed, or disinterested in pursuing more with him was slowly creeping back in on Hater as he shakily started up his van. The car moved slow as Hater stalled, trying to, of all things, recall all the information that Wander had taught to him back when he was pursuing Lord Dominator. 

“ _Ask_ him _a question~!_ ” 

As if the little nomad sitting beside him was crooning in his ear, Hater heard Wander’s advice loud and clear in his head (not to mention the buzz of the shock treatment). However, articulating said question was proving much harder than thinking it as Hater worried at the steering wheel.

He had fussed over proper romance-etiquette with Peepers days before the date, racking his brain over what to ask, what to say, when to speak, when _not_ to speak, and the other delicacies of both small and pillow talk. Of course, his commander suggestions followed his usual approach towards obstacles; rigid, calculative, and no nonsense.

‘ _Don’t slouch, keep your head up,_ ' As the garage door to the Skull-Ship began to slowly but surely rise, Hater followed Peeper’s internal dialogue, tilting his head up and squaring his shoulders as he looked over at Wander bouncing obliviously in his seat. 

‘ _Do not look down sir, you are showing him weakness. Do not show Wander weakness, Lord Hater, you know the little hairball will take off and run with it, he will eat you alive,_ ’

Hater rolled his eyes at Peepers’ advice, deciding to fast forward through the memories of his commander’s rantings, which were chock-full of neurotic fretting over stupid details like the importance of ironing his cloak and unfolding a napkin in his lap. He decided to settle on something both Wander and Peepers seemed to agree on: asking a question. For this case in particular, it was asking Wander how he was feeling.

‘ _All you have to ask him, sir,_ ’ Hater looked over at Wander, who soon caught his eye, turning to Hater with a small but playful smile. ‘ _is how he is doing. It’s that simple, it’s timeless and effective. Here, sir,_ ’

That’s when he remembered Peepers scribbling into his palm with marker, nodding towards his boss with a tip of the pen. 

‘ _Just in case you forget._ ’

Pulling his hand quickly from off the steering wheel, Hater looked to his glove at the memory, frantic with the hope it could relieve him. When he instead found the inside of his sweat-stained glove messy with a smear of ink, Hater’s face openly fell.

“Hatey,” Wander’s voice broke through with a question of his own as he reached for the skeleton’s knee, giving it a tender squeeze. “We’ve been sittin’ at the door for at least two minutes, y’alright, sweetie?”

Now aware he was slowing up their date, Hater smacked his hand down onto the steering wheel as he sat up straight, eyes focused on the open space ahead of them. He purposefully avoided the concerned gaze of Wander beside him as he punched his foot down on the gas pedal.

“ _I’M-FINE-TOTALLY-FINE-AND-NOT-IN-ANY-WAY-STALLING-I MEAN-WHY-WOULD-I-DO-THAT-ONLY-NERVOUS-DORKS-DO-THAT-LET’S-GET-THE-FLARP-OUT-OF-HERE-ALREADY!_ ”

The propulsion of the engine sent them both flat against the back of their seats as Hater peeled out of the Skull-Ship. With an abrupt exit, they zoomed off into outer-space, Wander letting out an excited squeal as he kicked his feet up from off the chair. In the rear view mirror, Hater could see twin trails of fire blazing in the wake of his tires, so he eased off the gas, the two of them visibly jarring in their seats.

“...So it’s cool _and_ fast!?” Wander was quick to break the silence, leaning forward to smile at Hater, cheeks round from the strength of his smile. “Hatey, this thing is so awesome! Why haven’t I ever seen it before!?”

“Well, yeah, of course it’s cool, it’s _my_ van,” Hater murmured under his breath, looking nervously between Wander and the windshield. “And because I have the Skull-Ship, why would I drive this around?”

“‘Cause it has these cool, fuzzy dice!” Wander reached upwards to give the dice dangling about his rear view mirror a squeeze, the appendages giving a squeak. 

“The Skull-Ship doesn’t have cool, fuzzy dice!”

“Yeah, but it does have a fully automatic death ray and a food court,” Hater reminded him with his usual gruffness, temporarily forgetting his fears of impressing Wander. “Besides, where am I going to fit my Watchdog army in here, Wander?”

Glancing back towards the bed of the van, Hater took in the shag carpet and the minimal furniture before he turned to Wander with a scoff. 

“I could only stuff like, I don’t know, 300 or so Watchdogs back here, and that’s _only_ if I can stand them moaning and complaining they can’t move or they’re running out of oxygen."

Despite the love he had for his van, in their earlier days, both Hater and Peepers realized that the adoption of a Watchdog army would require more room—a _whole_ lot more room, despite their tiny size—making the van less economical in the long run. It was driven very sparingly since then, Hater using it only once since its refurbishment, to lampoon a bunch of lame _Mooplexians_. 

“Yeah, I guess y’right,” Wander conceded as he stared out the window. “Y’probably have a whole lotta good memories in here though, right?”

“Yeah,” Hater recalled with a reluctant shrug. “If you consider nights sleeping in a cramped van ‘ _fun memories,_ ’ we had loads of them.”

Sitting in the _Hater-mobile_ really was a blast from the past. Bought used from some creep on the south arm of the galaxy, it was full of weird stains and even weirder smells. Being hard for cash with only so much stolen loot in their possession, Hater and Peepers made due with the hunk of metal, and Hater couldn’t help but feel sentimental.

When he looked over at the passenger seat, he half expected a young Peepers to be sitting there, hardly fitting behind the seat belt, but instead he was met with Wander, who was leaning downwards to rearrange a few things in his picnic basket. It made Hater’s heart stop mid beat at the strangeness of the sight: Wander, his former greatest enemy, sitting in a spot once reserved for his commander. 

‘ _He’s changing you,_ ’ he could hear Peepers say. Hater tried his best to shake the nag of his voice from his horns.

Hater realized quickly how much the van had changed. The interior no longer stank of mothballs or had electrical singes in the carpet; now it smelt like new car and looked cleaned beneath his feet. It felt weirdly symbolic of his relationship with Wander, who was at one time his most hated foe, but now the object of his infatuation. Hater’s anxiety over their first, real date came back into fruition at the thought of it all.

That’s when he remembered the smudge of marker in his hand, and what the smudge once was: a question for him to ask Wander, which Hater willed himself to do, not without a nervous rumble of his throat.

“So, uh,” Hater turned to face him, although his shyness made it difficult. “Wander.”

At the sound of his name, Wander perked up from out of the basket, hat bouncing about on his head as he beamed in Hater’s direction. 

“Yes, Hatey-Baby?”

The steering wheel was getting wet from Hater’s sweaty palms. Wander insisted on using that dumb nickname for him, and Hater found it cuter than he should have. The name ‘ _Hatey-Baby_ ’ made him think of the last time they hung out together, in the privacy of his bedroom, and the hungry way Wander whispered it when he was rubbing at his cock through his boxers.

“Uh, um,” Hater was officially nervous and mortified that he was thinking about that, right here, right now, when attempting to be a gentleman.

“How. How are, uh, how are you? Or whatever, I, I mean! Not whatever, I really do want to know. You know. How you’re doing.”

Hater was fisting the steering wheel hard enough to make it groan, eyes trained forward, jaw clenched and teeth gnashing as he pretended he didn’t totally mess that up.

Wander didn’t comment on his panic as he folded his hands happily in his lap.

“‘M good! Jus’ glad t’be with you, though s’gonna be the first time in a long, long while I’ve gone a night without Syl. But I ain’t even a lil’ bit worried, ‘cause ‘m gonna be with you! Besides, I know Mr. Peepers and the guys will take good care a’her. ‘M not gonna lie, I think she’s eyein’ that food court a’yours,”

‘ _Of course she is,_ ’ Hater thought to himself, trying to be polite as he let Wander continue.

“And here I am, hopin’ I packed enough nosh for us t’get through the evenin’, but I think we’re gonna be fine! Besides,” Wander held back another whinny of happiness as he reached inside his basket.

“Look at what I made~!”

In a ziplock baggie was Wander’s coveted cookies, Hater openly eyeing them with hunger until Wander took the hint. Offering one of the sweets to Hater, the skeleton leaned sideways to snatch it into his mouth, eyes focused on the windshield as Wander fed him.

“So yeah! ‘M jus’ fine. ‘M actually more than fine, Hatey,” Wander promised, making Hater stop mid chew to stare at him. “‘Cause ‘m about t’go on the greatest date in the galaxy, with you!”

Hater was mindful to swallow before turning green in the cheeks, head wiping forward so he could avoid Wander’s adorable stare. 

“Well, that’s,” Hater internally cursed himself as he clumsily activated the windshield wipers. “That’s good.”

Hater was beginning to get sick of being so nervous around the Wanderer. It was the one part of their new relationship he couldn’t stand, always feeling so embarrassed and like an idiot; if only Wander wasn’t so flarping cute!

“What about you?”

“Huh?” Hater blinked over at Wander in surprise.

“Well, how are you?” Wander giggled kindly as he kicked his legs back and forth. “Whatcha been up to, Hatey?”

Hater had failed to remember amongst the fears of impressing his crush that Wander would probably be asking him questions, too.

What did Hater say? 

‘ _Oh, I’m nervous right now, like, I could throw up nervous right now, I can’t stop fearing you’re gonna think I’m totally lame after this._ ’ 

It couldn’t be any worse than, ‘ _well, hey, I actually can’t stop thinking about you ever since we fooled around the last time, and it makes me feel horny in the most awkward of situations, but otherwise, I’m great Wander, just absolutely, flarpin’ dandy!_ ’

And as for what he had been up to? 

Since asking Wander out, he had been thinking non-stop about the aforementioned date, and before that, well. Let’s just say Hater could hear Peepers nagging him deep in his subconscious with a mocking, ‘ _yeah, Lord Hater, greatest villain in the galaxy; what have you been up to, hm?_ ’

Because, with no real explanation on his end, Hater did find himself taking a bit of a break from galactic domination.

‘ _A break!_ ’ Hater quickly reminded himself, feeling a fresh wave of anxiety over his lack of villainy on top of his already mounting worries. ‘ _People take breaks, it’s totally normal, doesn’t make you any less of an evil-doer._ ’

Hater tried to keep that in mind as he responded, shrugging as he timidly regarded Wander.

“I’m, you know,” trying to sound somewhat relaxed, Hater scratched at the steering wheel with his finger, trying to feign disinterest. “Chillin’ like an ultra cool villain, is all.”

Biting into a cookie, Wander didn’t push Hater into elaborating, but he did giggle a little at the rhyme.

“Well, that’s good, then! As I said, s’nothin’ like steppin’ back and takin’ a breather from time t’time. Sometimes, y’jus’ need a teensy refresher, is’all.”

“Yeah,” Hater felt himself frowning, unable to help but think that the Wanderer knew good and well of Hater’s abstinence from evil. “Sure, if you want to look at it that way, I guess.”

The van fell quiet apart from Wander’s munching, and Hater began to worry all over again, realizing that although his first question had turned out successful, there was still a little ways they needed to go before they arrive on _Gorzalon-10_. Sure, Hater had one question down, but there were hundreds of others, if not thousands, that he could—should be asking, if he was remembering Wander’s past advice correctly. Hater didn’t know where to begin.

“So, you, uh,” Hater eyed Wander sideways, raising a brow, generally curious of the answer. “You’ve been in a van like this before?”

“Yep!” Wander kept his answer short and simple as he placed the cookies back in his picnic basket, staring happily out into space instead of continuing. 

It put Hater on edge, remembering how Wander mentioned a past involving _Golorpian and the Znng-Zangs_. It made him wonder what type of company the ever friendly star nomad had kept previously, thus making him envious. 

What if Wander was a _groupie_ for these guys, or something? Familiar, ugly feelings like jealousy were hard for Hater to forget; he couldn’t help but irrationally think who those guys thought they were, anyway. Where did they get off stealing the thunder from out of his van!?

“Well,” Hater’s huff was full of annoyance. “are you going to tell me _why_ already?” 

His question came out a lot nastier than he intended, and Hater quickly panicked, nearly breaking the van as a reflex. 

“I, I mean! Okay, bear with me, that came out a lot worse than I wanted it to sound, I _really_ am trying to be nice here—”

“Hatey,” Wander interrupted him, not without reaching over to squeeze his hand over on the steering wheel. 

“Y’don’t have t’ _try_ to do anythin’,” Still beaming sweetly, Wander squeezed Hater’s hand a second time. “y’don’t have t’sit here and force y’self to talk to me!”

Hater blinked, quickly frowning at Wander’s accusation, no matter how true it was.

“I’m not _forcing_ myself to ask you anything. Wasn’t it you who said how important is to ask questions when, you know,” 

Hater glanced over at Wander’s hand clutching his own, unable to stop his stomach from doing flip flops at the sight of it.

“Isn’t that what you do when you _like_ like someone?”

Wander’s face softened, looking touched by Hater’s sentiments. Carefully, he took the skeleton’s hand from off the steering wheel to press it against his chest, eyes gleaming with admiration.

“Hatey,” Wander spoke his name with an affectionate purr.

“That’s ‘cause y’were tryin’ t’get Dominator t’like you! Y’don’t have to say anythin’ t’me at all, let alone ask me questions, if it’s makin’ y’feel uncomfortable. You _know_ I like you!”

Wander pressed a kiss to Hater’s knuckles, letting out a happy coo. “S’more important t’me that you be y’self!”

As the little nomad nuzzled affectionately at the back of Hater’s hand, some of the pressure of impressing Wander finally slipped away. Wander did like him, after all, and Peepers was right: Wander, ever the romanticist, would like anywhere he brought him, as long as it was important to Hater. 

Wander’s advice with Dominator still tormented him, yet Hater didn’t need overthink his answer when he responded to Wander next.

“But I want to know,” Hater tried, surprised by the honesty in his words. “I want to know more about you.”

Wander’s eyes grew wide in size and filled with tears of joy, making Hater snort and frown. 

“You’re going to make this weird, aren’t you?”

Wander’s excited ‘ _uh-huh_!’ confirmed as much, his grip tight on Hater’s as he pressed their hands snug against his chest, not looking like he intended to let go any time soon.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Although frowning, Hater tried his best to be encouraging, giving Wander’s hand a squeeze. 

“Alright, get on with the story already, don’t make me ask again.”

“ _Welllllllllll_ ,” Wander started, thumbing at Hater’s knuckles affectionately as he wriggled happily in his spot. “Since y’asked so nicely!”

“It all started when I was lackin’ some serious Orbble juice. I came across this van broken down on the side of the _inter-galactic 97_ , with a few nice lookin’ fella’s sittin’ next to it…”

As Wander went on with his story, Hater made sure that apart from his driving, he gave the other his undivided attention. To his own surprise, Hater found himself more invested in the details than he originally thought. 

Hater learned that one of Wander’s many talents also included auto-mechanics, as Wander had, of course, helped the musicians fix their broken carburetor with apparently nothing more than “ _a shoe string, a few bobby pins, and a’whole lotta rubber cement._ ” 

Against his initial worries, Hater learned that Wander was not a groupie after all. Thankful for his services, the group invited Wander to tag along onto their next venue, where he expected to purchase some more Orbble juice, only to find that the band’s circumstances had changed for the worst.

So, no, Wander was no mere groupie. After the abrupt exit of their rhythm guitarist, Wander was in the actual band.

“So, after Artie found out that Dave was datin’ Mary,”

“Dave, the singer?” Hater asked, now fully engaged in Wander’s tale, as he looked between the endless space in front of them and the nomad sitting beside him. “Was this before Maurice and Ray’s engagement, or,”

“After,” Wander was quick to clarify. 

“So, Artie found out about Dave and Mary, and wasn’ too happy about it. I really felt for the guy, he couldn’ help that he still had love for Mary, so he took off t’sort out his feelin’s, and well, that left them short one guitarist. I told ‘em I could play a pretty mean e-flat m’self, I’d be happy t’help the fella’s out till they figured out their situation. That’s when they strapped a _Lez Pavl_ to me and soon enough, I was up on stage with ‘em.”

When performing with Wander in the hopes of enticing Dominator, Hater was far too proud of his own guitar skills to pay homage to Wander’s abilities. Now, with his all too stubborn pride set aside, Hater could remember being surprised with how well Wander played, namely his expert shredding, his nimbleness of his fingers and the quality of his licks. At the time, so twisted up over Dominator, he failed to recognize how _awesome_ he felt when Wander was up there on stage with him. 

“Woah, Wander, that’s,” Hatey raised both eyebrows, thoroughly impressed. “That’s actually pretty cool.”

“It was _so_ cool!” Wander agreed, strumming at his thighs rhythmically, as if recalling the feel of the guitar strings. 

“I only did a show or two with ‘em and a few promotional pictures ‘cause I had t’set off on m’way to m’next adventure! I haven’t seen any of ‘em in a lil’ while, but last I heard Artie had cooled off and paired up with them again, Dave and Mary had themselves a family, and the group went off and booked a few gigs at _M4Di50N Garblon_ ,”

“ _The M4Di50N Garblon!?_ ” Hater had played there too, but only after threatening the stadium full of show goers with impending death. 

“I, I mean—I played there, too, y’know! _Twice!_ ” Hater tried, quickly falling back into a desire to impress.

“Oh, I know!” Wander stated happily enough, to Hater’s shock.

“You do?” Hater blinked over at Wander, no longer focusing on his driving.

“A’course I do, silly!” Pulling his picnic basket onto his lap, Wander was smiling at him, shrugging casually at the air.

“Y’talk all about _Lord Hater and the Harbingers of Doom_ in chapter 17 of y’novel, _Hate’s Biography, Get’s t’Spillin’_ , a’course I know y’played there, at the _Mar’s Rocks_ , too!”

“You,” Hater could easily remember the release of his novel, mainly that no one had come for his signature at its grand reveal, as well as it’s abysmal book sales. “You own a copy?”

“I got me both the original _and_ the re-release!” Wander confirmed with a happy giggle. “The editor’s cut, too!”

At a loss for words, Hater’s chest felt about to burst with happiness at Wander’s admission, and despite his best efforts, his eyes grew wide and his mouth started to tremble. 

The idea of Wander being so talented and sweet, so _perfect_ , used to infuriate him, but now Hater was beginning to feel that Wander was perfect for _him_ , with his sensitivity, his patience, and the adorable blush staining his face then and there, as he fluttered his eyelashes up at Hater from the passenger seat.

With intentions of planting a mouth crushing _frzzerp_ kiss on Wander, Hater leaned forward, careful to keep the wheel steady, but the beep of his radar snapped them out of their reverie, the both of them blinking towards the planet before them.

“Oooh, is this one’a _Jarvian’s_ moons?” Wander said right as they touched the atmosphere, the van giving a shake from the turbulence in the thick clouds. 

“Yeah,” Hater was dreading the worst as he looked sideways at Wander, who was staring out from the passenger window. “You, uh, been before?”

“Sure have!”

It took everything within Hater not to sag against his seat. Of course Wander had been to _Jarvian_ , its five moons included. He realized when choosing it it was a bit of a pipe dream, but it didn’t make his confirmation sting any less. 

“But,”

Wander’s hesitance made Hater look up glumly from his feet.

“I’ve never been with _you_ ,” Wander was smiling softly as he reached for Hater’s hand on the wheel, giving it a ginger squeeze.

Hater’s stomach twisted uncomfortably but his face felt pleasantly warm. It didn’t make him grouse any less as he focused on his driving, careful as he piloted the ship onto the moon’s surface. He was instantly surprised by the amount of dust kicking up around them from the force of the landing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Hater appreciated Wander’s sweet words more than he let on, but currently, the state of the dirt fogging up the windows had him confused. “The GPS says _Gorzalon-10_ , right?”

“That’s what it says, accordin’ t’this. Bear with me, ‘m not really savvy with one’a these things,” Wander was clutching the device in question with both hands before scratching at his chin in confusion. 

“But I realized where we were goin’ after passin’ the _YU-66Fub_ Globular, this should be it.”

Hater blinked at the swirl of dust settling on all sides of the van before grimacing at Wander, clicking the engine off. 

“You remember it being this… _sandy_?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Wander admitted, looking concerned once the wind had died down. 

Once he switched off the lights of his van, the scenery of _Gorzalon-10_ came into better focus. Hater’s expression fell flat at what his eyes were greeted with.

Namely, it was what they _weren’t_ greeted with that was causing his disbelief.

Now, _Gorzalon-10_ was never necessarily much to look at: when Lord Hater and Peepers had first landed on the moon in this very van, it wasn’t more than big hills, open fields and pine trees. There wasn’t much more on the surface otherwise, even in terms of fauna.

Still, it was the nicest moon that _Jarvian_ had to offer, considering the others were comprised of ice and gas. Now, as the dust around them settled, Hater saw nothing but sand for miles, the planet barren apart from the thick, ominous clouds in the sky and the burnt, charred stumps left in Dominator’s wake. 

Even Wander was silent, eyes wide, mouth open, as he took in the meager appearance of _Gorzalon-10_.

“Well,” 

Wander tried his best to sound positive as he smiled over at Hater, though he looked uneasy. 

“May I say, the sand is a _lovely_ shade’a violet.”

Hater let his whole composure slip as he dropped his forehead against the edge of the steering wheel, the horn bleating weakly from the impact of his face.

“This date is officially flarped.”

“Oh, Hatey, please don’t say that!” Wander sounded sad as he rushed to unbuckle himself from his seat, encircling Hater around the shoulders.

“We jus’ got here, and had such a nice ride. I thought we were havin’ a lovely time—!”

“Yeah, we _were!_ ” Hater reiterated for emphasis. “But now we’re on this stupid waste land of a planet with nothing but us and a few dead trees, why gee, _thanks_ Dominator!”

“Like, sure, it wasn’t the coolest place in the universe to take you, but,”

When Hater fell quiet, Wander leaned in close, till he was cheek to cheek with the skeleton.

“ _Buttttt?_ ”

“But,” Hater relinquished his tight grip on the steering wheel as he eyed his lap sadly. Letting his hands fall to his sides weakly, he was unable to meet Wander’s gaze as he wallowed in his own self-pity. 

“I took you here, cause, well,”

“It was special to me, I guess,” He could feel Wander’s stare imploring him, so he continued with a gruff sigh. 

“It’s sort of the first planet Peepers and me, y’know,” Hater looked out the window at the vast desert that was once _Gorzalon-10_. “Conquered.”

“But,” Wander blinked, turning to follow Hater’s gaze outside the driver’s side window. “It’s a _moon_.”

Teeth gritted, Hater began to squeeze the steering wheel once again, till it’s leather squeaked in protest. 

“You are _not_ helping.”

“And it _did_ kinda have a population a’zero.”

“Whelp,” Hater’s face looked to be made of stone despite the deep seated rage within him, which was begging to rip through him in the way of a scream. “Thank you, Wander, you can shut up any time now, I think I get the point.”

Popping the key back into it’s ignition, Hater gave the van a start, successfully making the sand fly up back around them.

“Hatey,” The look on Wander’s face, with a mouth turned down in sadness and eyes full of what looked to be something akin to betrayal, made him feel absolutely rotten.

“Who says we can’t keep havin’ a nice time here, huh?” The only response Hater offered was a stubborn scowl out past the dashboard. Again, he was unable to find it in himself to look at the Wanderer in fear of hurting him more, and worse, feeling bad about it. 

Somewhere in Wander’s thinking, he seemed to take it upon himself to sit in Hater’s lap before the overlord could push him away, slinking in under his arm and situating himself on his legs much like the night they spent together in his bedroom.

Turning himself to face the windshield and thus, _Gorzalon-10_ ’s more than pathetic scenery, Wander snuggled himself between the space of Hater’s legs, who spread them as soon as the little nomad had invited himself onto his lap.

“Say, can you maybe _warn_ me before you crawl onto my lap!?” Blushing profusely, Hater felt that one embarrassing erection in front of Wander was more than enough. He didn’t think he could afford another.

“Alright, so I’ll admit,” Wander either ignored Hater or hadn’t heard him as he gestured towards the view outside the windshield. “ _Gorzalon-10_ is lookin’ a little,”

With a pause, Wander gestured at the air after a small noise of contemplation. “Well, it’s lookin’ a lil’ worse fer wear,”

“Wander,” Pushing Wander’s hat from out of his face, Hater snorted down at the nomad, not without a dismissive wave towards the desolate terra in front of them. 

“It doesn’t matter how you spin it, or all the _wonderful_ and _happy_ adjectives you try to describe it with!” Hater let his hands fall to the steering wheel in grief. 

“This place is a glorfin’ _dump_.”

“But!” Wander smiled at Hater sweetly as he pressed a kiss along his jaw. “It’s special t’you. And it’s special t’ _me_ now, ‘cause, well,”

“S’place y’chose to have our very first date,” Wander fluttered his lashes up at Hater as he turned to straddle his lap. “And that in itself makes it the prettiest _planet_ I ever did see.”

Hater truly hated how romantic the little orange fuzz could be, sighing through his nose as he pressed his forehead to Wander’s. “It’s a moon.”

“S’first place y’ever conquered,” Wander corrected, letting out a giggle as he openly eyed Hater’s mouth. “Hatey-baby.”

“You’re annoying, have I told you that lately?” Hater hated the smile that was fighting it’s hardest to push through his dreariness. “I feel like I haven’t told you that lately.”

“Mmmm, no, y’haven’t, happy t’say,” Wander murmured, giving Hater a stern look as he poked him dead center in his sternum. “You’ve been very much the gentleman recently, mister.”

Finally, Hater’s glare, a look he was abundantly more comfortable with, managed to slip back onto his features, yet when he reached out to touch Wander, hand tender as it skimmed him across the cheek, Hater felt it quickly melting away. 

“Well,” Hater huffed, his glower softening into just a frown. “What if I said, I dunno,”

He felt himself averting his eyes as he blushed softly. “You’re just annoyingly _cute_?”

“ _Well_ ,” Wander was biting back another giggle as he reached up to carefully pet one of Hater’s antennas, letting out a happy chirp instead. 

“I’d say I might jus’ consider kissin’ you.”

“You know,” Hater carefully threaded his fingers along the back of Wander’s head as he brought the little nomad closer, feeling his insides grow warm when Wander purred in response. 

“I’m sort of the greatest conqueror this galaxy over, I kind of just like to _take_ things,” Hater raised his brow. “Kisses included.”

“Y’don’t have t’ _take_ anythin’ from me, Hatey,” Wander let out a low chuckle, one that was unbearably sexy to Hater’s ears. 

“M’kisses are mine t’give, and by judgin’ how long it’s been, I gotta whole lot t’give you,”

“Besides,” Wander pointed out with a warm smile, finally pressing their mouths together and embracing Hater around the neck. “People seem t’be talkin’ more about you _savin’_ the galaxy recently than rulin’ it, Hatey~!”

“Mmmm,” Hater pulled Wander closer with a hand on his lower back, speaking against his mouth. “Yeah, I’m shutting you up now.”

When Hater locked their lips together, Wander didn’t complain in the slightest. Instead, he clawed at the front of Hater’s robes and kissed him back just as eagerly. Wander’s tongue was already vibrating from the strength of his purr as they pushed into each other’s mouths.

Hater remembered for a third time, now weeks since their first kiss in the Smooch Room, how much he missed kissing Wander. Fantasies of smooching with a faceless lady were now replaced with the image of Wander’s wanton looks, the fuzz of his lips, and the rustic taste of his mouth. His memories of kissing Wander seemed far too few in between, making Hater’s chest ache at the thought of the other leaving him again. 

Wander’s breath was beginning to pick up in speed the longer they kissed, and Hater felt a familiar heat gathering down low between his legs. He only got one good stroke down the front of Wander, fingers carefully catching on every nipple, before the trembling nomad was pushing at his chest.

“Mmmm, Hatey,” 

The way Wander said Hater’s name was not helping the, _ahem_ , growing problem below his waist. 

“What about our picnic?”

Hater pulled away with a sigh, letting his skull hang off the back of the head rest as he glared up at the ceiling. 

Cock blocked, but by romance, Hater reminded himself as he switched off the engine once again. It could be considerably worse. They weren’t just smooching anymore, he reminded himself. This was for real now, for _feelings_ , and Hater knew he would have to put some work into it if he wanted to claim Wander as his boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re having it,” Hater let out a dejected growl. “ _here_ , on the saddest looking _moon_ in _my_ whole flarping galaxy.”

“Oh, it ain’t that bad,” Wander murmured, giving Hater one last kiss before he crawled off his lap, reaching for the picnic basket sitting at the foot of the passenger’s seat.

“You, uh,” As Wander bent over, Hater tried his best to look inconspicuous as he eyed the nomad’s backside, leaning forward in attempt to get a better look. 

“You sure about that? ‘Cause I’ve been to a few planets myself, being the universe’s greatest galactic conquerer and all, and it’s looking pretty lame to me.”

“Well, it ain’t gonna be any fun with that attitude!” Sitting up to smile over at Hater, Wander was oblivious to the overlord’s staring as Hater sat up rigidly against his chair.

“Y’know what, ‘m likin’ it already!” Wander proclaimed as he swung his door open, stepping out and surveying the area with his usual cheer. 

“The charred earth and grey skies gives it a certain type of ambience, if you will. Plus, with the air bein’ so dry and stagnant, that means we won’t get any sand in our food!”

“Oh, wow,” Hater’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he stepped out from the van, slamming the door behind him, sending sand whirling across his sneakers. “Things are _sure_ looking up already.”

“Now, see!” Both men circled around the back of the vehicle, Wander nothing short of excited, and Hater with his usual scowl. “That’s the kinda spirit I was lookin’ for!” 

Hater couldn’t help but feel incensed over the state of _Gorzalon-10_ , despite knowing well enough that when Dominator had wrecked every planet in her wake, she had done so with precision, moons included. 

“ _Ahem,_ ” 

Offering his arm, Wander flashed Hater a smile that somewhat softened the blow of _Gorzalon-10_ ’s disappointment. 

Hater looped their elbows together, so they were side by side. The two of them walked from the van to a spot of Wander’s choosing, but of course, not without Hater giving his own brand of commentary.

“At least it doesn’t smell,” Hater admitted as they approached the remains of a tree, one that, although wilting and rotted, still had its trunk and all of its branches. “It looks ten times more smellier than it actually is.”

“Y’know, I was thinkin’ that too!” Wander managed to pull a blanket from out of his hat before unrolling it gingerly on the ground. “You’d think with those smokin’ pits off in the distance, it would, but I don’t really smell much.”

“So it’s only a complete eyesore,” Hater huffed as he sat himself on the blanket, crossing both his arms and legs as he looked at the tree beside them with disdain. “Great.”

“There ain’t no eyesore from where I‘m lookin’.”

Hater blinked over in Wander’s direction, taking in the flirtatious curve of his smile as he sat across from him.

“Pfft,” Despite his outward attempts to shrug off Wander’s compliments, Hater turned green in the cheeks as he leaned back against the tree trunk, making a point to avert his eyes. 

“You’re a dork.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think y’mean that,” Wander teased as he sat his picnic basket between them.

“I mean it plenty,” Hater tapped the toe of his sneaker against the sole of Wander’s shoe affectionately, stubbornly mumbling. “You dork.”

“But ‘m I a _cute_ dork, Hatey?”

It still took Hater by surprise when Wander stared up at him with glimmering eyes and an awfully adorable nibble to his lip. With every passing second Wander kept up the face, Hater’s surly attitude eased away, but that didn’t stop him from scoffing at the air indignantly. 

“Maybe,” Wander sagged his shoulder, the edges of his lips sloping down in defeat, before Hater eventually caved.

“Ugh, alright!” Even as he growled, Hater blushed at his own honesty. “You’re the cutest, okay?! Stop reminding me, your face is torture enough.”

Wander significantly perked up at Hater’s confession, his smile returning, as he started to riffle through his picnic basket.

“I’m starting to think you’re manipulating me with that thing you do,” Hater grouched as Wander crawled into his lap, who got comfortable in the crook of his femur and tibia.

“What thing do y’mean, Hatey?” Wander asked whilst forcing back a giggle, ignoring Hater’s pointed glare as he nuzzled close against him.

“The whole,” grumbling, Hater ran a hand lightly down the length of Wander’s back, unable to deny how soft and snuggly he was. “The whole _cute_ thing!”

“You’re using it to make me do what you want and trying to act all innocent about it! Don’t think I’m not on to you.”

“Awww, but that’s not true, Hatey!” Wander promised, eyes dopey with affection as he leaned forward to peck him on the cheek. “I only keep askin’ ‘cause I like hearin’ y’say it!”

“Alright, what-flarping-ever, we get it, I think you’re cute and that you’re manipulating me with said cuteness,” Hater felt feverish with the way he was flushing. “Are we eating now or not?!” 

“Yes!” 

Wander flipped opened the basket, Hater watching him stick his head all the way inside, till his hat was poking out from the other flap. When Wander sat back against him, he came out with not one, but two sandwiches, gleefully offering one to Hater as he bit into his own.

“Oh,” 

Hater nearly balked when Wander avoided asking him his preference over what condiment he wanted. 

“Um,” Hater looked down at his sandwich incredulously. “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hm?” Wander cocked his head to the side as he chewed, speaking only after swallowing. 

“Whatcha mean, Hatey? Peepers helped me make it the way y’like it, it has bacon on it and everythin’!”

“Yeah, but,” Hater took a look at his sandwich, happy to see it indeed had bacon, and lacked the detested veggies. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted—”

“Mustard or mayo?” 

Wander giggled before taking another bite, again mindful not to speak with his mouth full. 

“Peepers told me y’liked mustard, too!”

“Yeah, well,” Hater helped himself to his first bite, a sandwich made fit for a carnivore, and much to his pleasure, with his favorite, spicy mustard. 

“Mayo is okay, too, especially when it has all those little spices in it.” 

As expected, his sandwich was made just the way he liked it, thanks to what he assumed was Peepers. The crust was cut off, his BLT lacked the stupid lettuce and tomato, and it was doused in salt. At the very least, Hater felt a little better knowing that Peepers hadn’t spent his whole time with Wander just plotting various ways to kill him. 

“Y’mean aioli?”

“Yeah! Especially when you put it on those fancy breads and stuff,” Hater caught a look at Wander’s sandwich, eyeing it warily.

“What are you eating?”

Hater was careful to remember Wander mentioning he didn’t eat meat in between text messages, ordering Peepers to ensure there was a fully stocked, fully vegetarian fridge for Wander’s arrival. 

“Oh! Well, it’s one of m’personal favorites,” Sounding nothing short of jovial, Wander peeled back the top layer of his bread to show the innards of his meal, Hater’s mouth grimacing in disgust. 

“It’s a tomato, lettuce, and cucumber sandwich! And oh,” 

Wander giggled in that sweet way that made both Hater’s stomach flip and his eyes narrow. “A lil’ bit a’mayo.”

“That,” Hater heedlessly stated. “Looks horrible.”

“Well, how d’yknow it’s horrible if y’haven’t tried it?” Wander offered his sandwich to Hater, who glanced at it unfavorably. “Maybe y’might even like it!”

“Uh,” Hater’s expression didn’t budge when he looked from Wander, to the sandwich, and then back. “Yeah, no, I’m pretty sure I won’t.”

“Oh, not even a nibble?” Wander asked, his stare glassy and huge, making Hater swallow down a snarl. 

“Good Grop, if I take a bite of the stupid thing, will you stop already!?” 

Despite Hater’s hiss, Wander nodded with high hopes and excitement, pushing the sandwich closer to Hater. Poking him on the mouth with its crusts, Wander let out his trademark “ _boink_ ,” making the villain roll his eyes.

“Okay, okay, give me the flarping—!” 

Hater took the sandwich from Wander, glaring at it in aversion. With one last look at his own food, succulent and savory with meat, Hater turned to Wander’s bleak looking sandwich with an internal sigh. He was supposed to be nice to his date, right? To try new things, smile, laugh, and most of all, make Wander happy.

With those thoughts in mind, Hater, with puckered lips and squinted eyes, took a single bite.

It took every inch of the little manners Hater had not to gag as he smiled shakily at Wander, who looked not only happy, but proud, as he took his sandwich back.

“Oh Hatey!” Wander let out a happy chirp, eagerly awaiting his answer, as he hugged his sandwich close. 

“Didja like it!?”

“I found it,” Hater felt positive that the words, ‘ _to be complete slop_ ,’ were not appropriate in these circumstances. 

“Edible! _Saaaaaay_ , do you have some _Thunderblazz_ to wash that down, or?”

“I do!” Reaching into his basket, Wander offered the bottle to Hater, who was just short of ripping it from out of his hands. “See, Hater! S’not so bad tryin’ new things, is it?”

“Oh,” Hater turned back around from wiping his tongue off on his hand, smiling guilty, though Wander didn’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, yeah, that was great, not in any way stomach turning, I loved every morsel.”

“That’s wonderful, Hatey!” Wander offered his sandwich again. “Do you want another—”

“No, no, no, Grop, _no_ , please!” Hater couldn’t stop himself from rearing his head back in revulsion, but the sight of Wander sitting on his lap and his smile wilting reminded him of their date. 

“I mean! Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Hater looked from side to side weakly. “I’ll just stick to mine, Wander, _thaaaaanks._ ”

A few moments had passed in silence, Wander taking slow bites of his sandwich to chew, merely staring and making Hater nervous. 

Starting to sweat under the strain of Wander’s stare, Hater was ready to ask him if he felt okay, or if he wanted some _Thunderblazz_ to wash down his gross sandwich, or if Hater had finally messed up their date. Instead, the nomad slowly smiled, cuddling closer to Hater’s ribcage with a quiet but joyous purr.

“‘Kay! Say, I have a few more lil’ snacks in here, if y’wanna take a look!”

Hater reminded himself to swallow before speaking. “It’s not more of that veggie garbage, right?”

“Nope!” Reaching into the basket, Wander supplemented his promise with an unopened bag of _Splkark_ chrzrps, making Hater’s stomach grumble in bliss. 

“Peepers told me y’might’a liked these too~!”

Hater only hesitated a second before making a quick grab for the bag, protectively clutching it close to his chest. 

“You, uh,” Hater was never one to share, but he felt with Wander, _maybe_ , he was open to making an exception. “ever try these?”

“Nope,” Wander admitted, taking one last bite of his sandwich before he carefully placed it on their blanket. “Seen ‘em in a _& -!!_ or two but s’about it, does it got any meat in it?”

“Pfft,” The _Splkark_ bag audibly crumpled as Hater pulled it open. “ _Splkark’s_ are so good, they don’t even need any pork seasoning.”

“ _Oooh!_ ” Wander raised both eyebrows as he examined the bag more closely, leaning over to give it a sniff from above. “It smells a lil’ more _processed_ than what ‘m used to.”

“Uh, yeah, which is exactly why it’s good?” Hater scoffed. 

“C’mon Wander, processed foods are the best kind, you have to try!” Hater glared at him as he offered him some _Splkark’s_. “Besides, I tried your ‘ _sandwich_ ,’ after all, it’s only fair.”

“Well,” Wander shifted a little nervously on Hater’s leg as he reached inside the bag, pulling out a single chip. 

“It really doesn’t hurt t’try.”

“Uh, obviously,” Though after a bite of Wander’s sandwich, his stomach begged to differ.

“You just gotta try one, Wander, and your life is changed, no looking back,” Hater said, sounding sure of it. “One is all you need.” 

“Well, alright, if y’insist!” 

Wander took one, single chip from the bag, inspecting it closely before taking a small bite.

Hater waited, holding his breath, as he watched Wander chew, mechanically so. When Wander merely stared at the remains of the chip in his hand, Hater felt his expression fall, unaware until then he was smiling with anticipation over the other’s answer

“Hatey,” Wander started, softly. 

“These are _AWESOME_! Are there more flavors?! A sundried tomato, perhaps? How do these taste in a dip?” Wander was already reaching into the bag to scoop out more. 

Finally, Hater thought with a small smile on his face, he was able to pleasantly surprise Wander. 

“I don’t think so?” Hater shrugged, speaking in between chips. 

“But this one time, I wrote a letter to the company requesting barbecue flavor, ‘cause _c’mon_ , really, what chip brand doesn’t have barbecue flavor? When they didn’t get back to me, I got really mad, and I went there and ransacked the place. Out of fear for their lives, they made them like, the next day.”

“I’m pretty sure I can do something similar for you.” Hater flashed Wander a meek stare as he offered him the bag again, attempting to be sweet. “Y’know—only if you want me to.”

“Aww, y’don’t have t’do that! Besides, those folks down at the ol’ _Splkark_ factory probably work plenty hard enough,” Wander reassured him as he offered Hater a chip of his own. “‘Sides, I think these taste jus’ right.”

“Even if it’s bad for you?” Hater tried to be playful, happy to see it worked when Wander giggled.

“Well, then I _especially_ like it,” Wander said, quirking both eyebrows, before crunching into another chip.

“Holy Grop,” Despite the firmness in his tone, Hater could feel his face heating up. “are you _really_ trying to be sexy right now?”

“Maybe,” Wander turned red in the face himself, appearing sheepish as he blinked up at him. “Is it workin’?”

“If I say yes,” Hater teased as he reached for another chip. “Will you feed me?”

With another giggle, Wander snuggled up further on Hater’s lap, drawing his knees in close as he offered him his last chip. “I would feed y’either way.”

“Good,” Hater threw him a weary eye. “Just don’t get any greasy crumbs on me, your fur is like a magnet.”

“Will y’lick ‘em off m’fingers?”

“Pfft, ‘ _what about our picnic, Hatey,_ ’” Hater imitated him softly as he offered a chip to Wander, who gladly took it in his mouth without question.

“You’re annoying, cute, _and_ a tease, why am I not surprised?”

In between bites of sandwiches, nibbling on cookies, and feeding each other chips, Hater’s nerves were just short of disappearing as the picnic progressed. Even the pressure of being polite to Wander faded away, the banter between them feeling as natural as it was between text messages. 

With Wander sitting curled up on his lap and cuddling close, filling him in on his adventures traversing across the galaxy, Hater didn’t need to force himself to pay attention: he actually _wanted_ to. He had been to many of those places himself, if not ruled them, previous to Dominator’s destruction, but hearing Wander talk about them, with wonder and excitement over every little detail, made Hater want to listen. 

Hater felt comfortable, at ease, and most of all content, as the both of them curled up close under the tree. The direction they faced once held a lovely sunset prior to _Gorzalon-10_ being split in half; now the view only offered dark, gloomy clouds, but Wander didn’t seem mind in the slightest, as he continued to go on in depth about his most recent journey.

“And that’s when we got t’ _Yozurpia_ —well, the remains of _Yozurpia_ —so we could settle and get’a good’s night rest before today,” Wander spoke softly, burrowed deep within the confines of Hater’s cloak, sinking into the space between his ribs and pelvis. “It’s excitin’ t’see all the new places, and most of all, m’new lil’ flower friend!”

“That plant of yours is really getting far, isn’t it?” Hater had to confess; whatever love-jinx Wander had put on the thing, it really seemed to be working as the flower reforested whatever was left of the galaxy.

“Yeah, it really is somethin’ t’see!” Wander said with a happy sigh. “S’only a matter a’time till it reaches here, too!”

“Yeah,” Hater huffed, though nowhere as bitter as before. “It couldn’t have gotten here a little faster, say, _before_ our date”?

Wander laughed and smiled up at Hater with fondness. “Well, things do happen for a reason. Maybe it wanted us t’check the place out first!”

“Yeah,” Hater surveyed the dreary landscape with a frown. “It wasn’t much of a place when I first ruled it, but jeez, even a few weeds wouldn’t hurt.”

“Well, I always thought _Gorzalon-10_ had quite a’bit’a charm to it.” Wander admitted as he pulled Hater’s arm tightly around him.

“Did you come here before or after me ruling it?” Hater asked, generally curious.

“I dunno,” Wander answered honestly, eyes staring off into the horizon, as if searching for sunlight that would never come. 

“S’been a long time since I’ve been here, but it was more than once, and many years ago.”

Wander seemed to avoiding his gaze as he focused instead on the swirl of clouds ahead of them, looking thoughtful as he sat up and leaned forward. All Hater could see was the back of his head as he hunched his shoulders close.

“Have you ever stopped going?” 

Hater couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

“I mean—I know ‘ _wandering_ ’ is your thing, but have you ever, I dunno,” 

The silence felt heavy between them, but despite worrying it was a poor topic of choice, Hater didn’t hold himself back.

“Ever stopped traveling?”

The fear of him possibly hurting Wander’s feeling dawned on Hater when the star nomad remained quiet. 

“Is this, uh,” Hater sat up from against the tree to cautiously run a hand through the fur on Wander’s back. “This kind of a sensitive subject or something?”

“No, no,” Wander finally turned to face him with a smile, but there was something lifeless behind it, and Hater spotted a pinning in Wander’s eyes that he usually didn’t see. 

“It’s jus’,” Wander hesitated, giving shrug of his shoulders.

“Jus’ not a question I get asked a lot, honestly.”

“What?” Now that was an answer Hater was surprised to hear.

“Yeah, I think people kinda realize that, well,” Wander twisted to face Hater, little legs on either sides of him as he giggled up at the skeleton. 

“Wanderin’, travelin’, and movin’ about the galaxy is kind of jus’ somethin’ that I do!”

A vulnerability that Hater had seen only once in Wander, that one particular evening they spent together in the Smooch Room, showed itself on his face, in the way of an unsure gaze. 

“Hatey, can I tell y’somethin’? And, I know it’s a bit much of me t’ask, but can y’not try t’feel too weirded out or nothin’?”

Hater’s insides were gradually freezing over in doubt. 

“Uh, you’re kinda starting off your question with a doozy, Wander,” he admitted with agitation, unable to meet his gaze. “But,”

“I’ll try,” Hater shrugged, eyes still avoiding Wander. “For you, I guess.”

Finally, after some bravery on his part, Hater turned to face Wander, finding a small and hesitant smile on the fuzzy traveler. Wander appeared to be looking for something in Hater’s face, unnerving him, but before he could tell him to get on with the question, to disperse some of the weirdness between them, Wander spoke.

“I know I told you I’ve been a’lotta places, that I’ve met a’lotta people in my life, made a whole lotta friends,” Wander leaned close against Hater as he turned to stare back out into the gloomy sky. 

“But all those things, all those memories, Hatey? They ain’t jus’ people, they ain’t jus’ places I pass through, they’re—they’ve always felt like a part a’me. I’ve never needed t’settle to feel safe and comfortable. I’ve never needed t’be in one place, with one person, t’feel like I can be happy,"

“Until, well,” Wander searched out Hater’s stare, which wasn’t all too hard to do; the overlord couldn’t pull his eyes from off of him from the sheer anticipation alone. 

“Until the last time I saw you.”

All hopes of removing some of the tension from the air was successfully ruined as Hater reared his head back.

“Uh,” Hater could feel his heart speeding up in his ribcage. “What, uh—what does that even mean?”

“I dunno,” Wander said softly, looking conflicted, looking lost.

“Don’t get me wrong, Sylvia, she—she’s m’home, Hater, she’s m’ _rock,_ ” Wander’s voice trembled, as if she wasn’t safe in the confines of the Skull-Ship, waiting for his return. “If she realizes it or not, but,”

“It jus’ didn’t feel the same ever since I left you,” Wander seemed to fixate on Hater’s robes as he traced the patchwork where red joined black. “It felt, well,”

Wander’s voice became quiet. “It felt wrong. For the first time in as long as I’ve been wanderin’ the universe, I didn’ wanna leave, and I couldn’ stop thinkin’ about gettin’ back t’you.”

“Don’t get me wrong now, travelin’ helped!” Wander said with a grin, this one a little more natural than the last. “I still love t’do m’travelin’. And a’course, I had my ol’ pal Syl, thank goodness for it, but, it’s jus’,”

With a nervous swallow, the edges of Wander’s smile curled into something a little more nervous as he met Hater’s eyes, only to quickly avert from off of him again.

“I couldn’ stop thinkin’ about you. And when we talked, I couldn’ stop thinkin’ about how I could be _with_ you, instead a’there, wherever I was.”

“I really missed you. I think more than anyone I’ve ever missed in m’life.

“And well,” With a laugh that sounded nothing less than forced, Wander rubbed at his knees as he looked timidly over his shoulder back at Hater. “S’not a good feelin’! And it’s a weird one, if ‘m bein’ honest, s’not somethin’ I typically feel. It made me feel, well.”

Wander whispered, eyes full of trepidation as he met Hater’s gaze. When his voice hitched, Hater feared the nomad would start crying, and this time not with happiness.

“It made me feel helpless.”

“‘M whole life I’ve always felt like movin’ and travelin’—seein’ things that I’ve never seen before, visitin’ new places,” There was a heavy shake in Wander’s voice as he breathed out. “Like I’ve always been searchin’ for somethin’ and now, since talkin’ t’you, I,”

“I don’t.” Wander’s expression fell flat, but not necessarily unhappy. He looked strangely at peace. “I don’t feel like lookin’ for whatever that was anymore,”

Wander fell quiet again, looking pensive before continuing. “Like maybe I’ve found what I’ve been lookin’ for all along.”

“It’s almost,” Wander hesitated as he looked to the bleak clouds directly above them before staring at the tops of his sneakers. 

“It’s almost like ‘m not me anymore, y’know? And I feel like that should bother me, but,”

With a weak smile, Wander glanced backwards at Hater again, unwillingly or not pinning him with the heaviness in his features.

“It doesn’t. Not at all, really,”

Wander shrugged, letting out a tired and somewhat conflicted sigh. “I dunno, maybe it’s all in m’head, but—do y’know what I mean?”

Before Hater could stop himself, he spoke candidly, with nothing less than awe in his tone.

“I do.”

“I mean,” Hater took a deep breath as he pulled Wander closer around the middle with one hand, and flicked distractedly at a pebble with the other. “I do know, actually. What you mean.”

There was a heavy pause on Hater’s end as they both watched the rock slide down a sandy hill, till it gathered speed and faded into the distance.

“Peepers says I’m distracted. By you.” 

“And I am,” Hater turned his gaze on Wander, feeling the weight of his own emotions in his frown. “You’ve been distracting me from conquering ever since you came into the picture as more than the enemy. I haven’t conquered a single planet since, since,”

The words were like lead, like marbles in his mouth, until he felt a small encouraging hand on his arm.

“Since y’stopped Dominator?” Wander offered, which Hater was thankful for.

‘ _Since I saved the galaxy,_ ’ just didn’t want to come out of his mouth, how true it may have been.

“Yeah,” Hater admitted, searching out Wander’s face before turning away with annoyance, opting to glare at the ground instead. 

“Because of you. I could be number one on the Villain Galactic Leader Board, with no competition, defeating planet after planet right now, have flags with my face planted on all of them from this side of the galaxy and back but here I am. With you.”

“Oh.”

At Wander’s half-hearted response, Hater turned to him with determination, trying to muster up a look of cruelty that he hadn’t offered the Wanderer since the last evening they spent together, when he was still confused over his feelings. Whatever was on his face seemed to have worked, because it was one of the rare times that Wander seemed to crumple underneath his gaze since their first meeting on _Binglebopolopolis_ all those years ago, shoulders drooping, face contorting with sadness, and it was quick to draw all the anger out of Hater with one, swift swoop.

“I want to be mad at you,” Hater admitted. 

“I want to _hate_ you, even,” He said through gritted teeth, but again, it was quick to pass.

Reaching out to grab at Wander’s face, he brushed his thumbs across the swell of his cheeks, the fur matting down at the touch, feeling soft even beneath his gloves. Affection filled Hater’s eyes before he could stop it.

“I can’t,” Hater felt his face blush. “I _like_ like you way too much.”

“I, I don’t even think you’re that annoying anymore. I know I said you were annoyingly cute, which, you are,” at the realization of his words, Hater felt his stomach drop, quickly reverting to his nervous ways.

“I, I mean! You’re cute. Not really annoying anymore, but cute. Stupidly cute,” Hater’s eyes grew wide and he nearly kicked the ground in frustration. 

“I _MEAN_! Y-you’re just cute! Not stupid either, ugh, this is getting mushy and dumb, just, I get what you mean okay!? I shouldn’t like you, I should want to conquer planets but I’d rather be with you! Like, yeah, look, I’m _still_ the greatest, sickest, and tightest ruler in the galaxy, not even _you_ can change that, but—alright, that’s it, I officially don’t like this conversation, can we not talk about this anymore!?”

Hater crossed his arms and ignored the adorable ball of fuzz blinking up at him from on his lap. Hiding the bottom half of his face in the collar of his robe, Wander could only see the green coloring Hater’s forehead.

“Well,” Wander said flatly, till his usual cheeriness was back in his voice. “Aren’t we two, lil’ confused peas in a pod!”

Hater offered only a grunt and a refusal to budge from his hiding spot, yet he pulled Wander closer, who was happy to wrap his arms around his neck.

“Y’know, I don’t think that sunset is comin’ anytime soon.”

That pulled Hater from out of his robe, who deadpanned at Wander, an eyebrow raised.

“You think?”

“So,” Hater blinked at the sultriness in his tone, watching as Wander crawled a few fingers up the curve of his shoulder. 

“Why don’t y’take me back t’the van, hm? Y’haven’t showed me the back, after all…”

Raising his brow, Hater’s eyes lit up in pleasant surprise, sweat already beading on his face

“Uh, well,” Hater sat up straight, the intensity of his nerves making his spine rigid. “A-alright.”

“I, I mean, yeah, it totally stinks out here anyway, and I bet you no _Spodge_ you’ve been in was nearly _half_ as cool as mine.”

“Oooh, I believe it!” Wander said, sounding as happy as ever as he began gathering up the remains of their picnic. “And guess what I saved,”

Hater looked up at the sound of crinkling aluminum, eyes growing wide at the sight of another of _Splkark_ ’s bag. 

Okay, Hater thought; so maybe their date on _Gorzalon-10_ wasn’t starting off nearly as bad as he thought.

\---

It wasn’t hard for Peepers to remember what his job description entailed.

He was the Commanding Officer to the prestigious Lord Hater Empire; remembering every little detail was part of his job.

Commander Peepers was Lord Hater’s right hand man; he made sure that their plans went smoothly. He paid the bills and made sure their lootings weren’t for naught as he managed accounts receivable. When it came to titles and deeds, the actual maintenance of the planets that they captured, Peepers was in charge of deploying aptable squads to manage and keep these planets in their hold. The care of their troops, the Watchdog’s, sat in Peepers hands, from the moment they woke up, till the time they passed out, drooling in their cubbies.

But, most importantly of all, it was Commander Peeper’s job to keep Lord Hater content.

No, it was not hard for him to remember his job description; not when he was the one who wrote it, anyway.

He knew for a fact that nowhere in the carefully bound, numbered, and neatly bulleted pages was there anywhere, even in the tiniest of print, _anything_ about him being responsible for the entertainment of a Zbornak. One that was an adversary, not to mention; Hater may have dropped Wander from the title of ‘ _greatest enemy,_ ’ but at no point did he mention Sylvia to be vanquished of the title, too.

In Peepers eye, the reason why he kept a close look on her was out of necessity.

Nothing more, nothing less.

That’s what he repetitively told himself as he sat across from her, watching her scuffle down her third helping of all that was there to offer in the food court. From all corners of the room they were garnering stares from the little crew that dared to occupy the cafeteria with both their Commander and Sylvia sitting within three feet of each other.

It was purely professional reasons—Hater had, after all, said to take care of her—it was his duty to make sure she wasn’t sneaking about the Skull-Ship, doing what she, and normally, her annoying, furry companion, did best:

 _Meddle_.

He didn’t need her to meddle with their plans, how non-existent they were at the current moment. Even if she didn’t necessarily participate in what Wander like to claim was ‘ _do-goodery,_ ’ she didn’t ever stop him, either. Really, she facilitated him, using brute strength where Wander refused, and thus making her almost as awful as her friendly counterpart.

The emphasis on ‘ _almost_ ’ was key; Peepers would much rather spend time with her than Wander, any hour of the day, day of the week, week in the year, and so forth.

So he had a responsibility to take care of Sylvia, mainly to placate his leader, because, as if Peepers’ job wasn’t hard enough, Lord Hater had went and fell for Wander. 

Of all terrible weirdos he could have fallen for, it just had to be Wander. The thought alone made Peepers head hurt as he squeezed his eyelid closed, catching the attention of Sylvia across from him.

“Jeez, Peepers,” Sylvia said in between slurping up noodles. “Carry a little more stress on your shoulders, why don’t you.”

“Your commentary isn’t necessarily,” was his terse response as he eyed her with as much indignation he could muster. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yeah, just about.” Sylvia pushed away easily what could have been her fifth bowl of ramen. 

“Depends though,” she asked as she pointed at the forgotten slice of pizza on Peepers’ plate.

“You gonna eat that?”

So, after one last slice of pizza (and a soda on the go), Sylvia and Peepers left the food court, and thankfully for Peepers, in silence. Now, however, he was faced with one pressing issue:

Where was Peepers going to put her? 

Now, there were numerous guest rooms , which had never necessarily been used. Lord Hater wasn’t one for guests, despite having more than enough space to accommodate them. They would be the safe option, far away from the Watchdog’s barracks, from any of their machinery, from the War Room, and Lord Hater’s quarters. 

But there were concerns that kept picking at Peepers, no doubt in his paranoia.

The guest rooms were on the whole other side of the Skull-Ship, far from his bedroom, and that just didn’t sit right with him.

“So, are we taking a long leisurely stroll, or,” Sylvia startled Peepers out of his thoughts, making him jump.

“Of course not!” he snapped, voice full of vitriol. “I’m taking you to my room.”

Peepers would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how quickly her smiled slinked off her face.

“ _Excuse_ me?” Sylvia looked offended as he clutched her soda tight. 

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself!” Peepers refused to look in her direction, his shoulders drawing tight, his chest feeling funny. It confused him, but it was mostly annoying, and not enough to fluster him.

“I am dropping you off there, where you will stay, _alone_ , as I guard you from the outside.”

“Doesn’t Lord Hater have guest rooms?” Sylvia asked before sipping noisily through her straw. “Yeah, I get it, he doesn’t have any guests to fill it with, but really?”

“Lord Hater has plenty of friends!” Peepers felt the need to defend his leader, although it was far from the truth.

“Yeah, like his army that he pays?” Sylvia let out a flat ‘ _pfffft,_ ’ as she rolled her eyes. “Oh, and you. Tell me, am I missing anybody?”

“Yeah, for a matter of fact, you are,” There was a snide type of joy in Peeper’s voice as as he placed his hands on his hips, turning to throw a nasty glare in her direction. 

“You’re forgetting your ‘ _best bud_ ’ Wander!”

“Oh, yeah,” Sylvia snorted as she brushed past him, sounding hardly fazed. “And how is that working out for you?”

Peepers felt his proverbial hackles raise at her mockery. “What do you mean ‘ _how is it working out for me?!_ ’”

“Well,” Sylvia turned to smile knowingly in his direction. 

“Doesn’t seem like there is much planet conquering going on as of lately, huh?”

Peepers blood had already reached its boiling point. He didn’t know what it was about her that made him angrier: the sneer in her voice, the smirk on her face; the all too spiteful glint in her eye that told Peepers she darn well knew he was angry, and she was basking in it.

“It just kind of seems like something that would upset you,” Sylvia’s shrug was taunting as she continued forward; even the way her tail curled behind her radiated a feeling of smugness that successfully drove him mad. “It doesn’t seem to be upsetting Hater all too much, at the very least.”

“Then again,” Sylvia fluttered her eyelashes playfully, and a strange pit gathered in the depth’s of Peepers stomach. “Hatey is in _love_.”

“And Wander isn’t?!” Finally composing himself, Peepers had to run to keep up with Sylvia, her steps quite larger than his own. 

“Falling in love with Hater, I mean! Tell me, you must be ecstatic!”

Snorting at the sarcasm dripping from Peepers voice, she matched it tenfold, voice gravelly with annoyance. 

“Oh, believe me, I’m flarping _thrilled_ , but back to the case in point: why aren’t I sleeping in a guest room again?”

“Because!” Peepers had forgotten about that bit amongst their arguing, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his helmet straight on his eye. 

“In my room, I know every possible exit, every avenue for you to get your paws around, every nook and cranny you think you can find, but you won’t!” 

Peepers squared his shoulders as he marched, throwing her a sideways look of scorn. “My room lacks any and all sensitive information, the vents are Wander-proof, I assure you, and by extension, _Zbornak_ -proof, so there isn’t any way you can get out! With me in front of the door, you are locked in and far away from anything you can tamper with, break, or _punch_. You’ll be unable to meddle with anything!”

“Besides,” Peepers huffed as he approached the door to his room. “I have plenty of men patrolling the hallways, giving me back-up, if needed.”

“Oh?” Sylvia looked unimpressed. “Since that’s always worked out for you in the past, right?”

“Please,” Peepers scanned his single retina in order to gain access to his bedroom. “We both know I _hardly_ need back up when it comes to you, that’s just precautionary.”

“Sure, buddy, keep telling yourself that,” Sylvia scoffed as she pushed past him to walk in first, looking back at him briefly. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Peepers, ready with a nasty retort of his own, was interrupted by the sheer look of shock on Sylvia’s face.

“What,” Peepers blinked before glaring. “What is it now?!”

Sylvia’s mouth, once gaping in surprise, quickly turned into a less than innocent smile.

“Uh- _huh,_ ” Appearing to be holding in laughter, she looked to the ground with a sneer, both eyebrows raising. “That explains a lot.”

Peepers heart slowly but surely picked up in pace, his palms feeling weirdly clammy beneath his gloves as he looked from side to side, from wall to wall. His room was as neat as it always was, his bed made, the bathroom pristine. He tried not to panic as he waited for her to answer, but it never came; she simply laughed, agitating him further.

“What explains _what_?!” Peepers was tempted to draw his laser, if it meant getting an answer from her. 

“EXPLAINS WHAT, _OUT WITH IT ZBORNAK_!”

“No, no, it’s nothing, it’s just,” Sylvia nodded forward, namely towards the painting of Lord Hater Peepers had on his wall. 

“I’ve been in your room before,” Peepers couldn’t help but feel mortified, nor could he stop himself from blushing. “So, I know that painting is there, but really,”

“It just explains a lot, you know?” Sylvia sighed as she made her way to the edge of Peepers bed, throwing herself onto the mattress, which groaned under her weight.

“Your adoration, your loyalty, how much you hate Wander.” With a shrug, Sylvia gave Peepers a once over with her eyes before finishing.

“So, you’re in love with Hater, right?”

“ _What!?_ ” Peepers was successfully pink in the sclera.

“I am not in love with Hater! Why do people think that?! Has no one heard of brotherly love?! Can’t two guys have _platonic_ love just as friends?”

“Not when one of those guys has a massive picture of the other hanging on his wall, no.”

“It’s called _boss appreciation_ for the single greatest, most powerful, and wicked awesome authority this galaxy over!” Peepers scoffed. “You, you’re looking way too into it!”

“Yeah, ‘appreciation,’ or blind _villain_ -worship?” Sylvia scoffed indignantly, further infuriating the commander.

With his blood pumping and his sclera heating up, it took Peepers a moment to realize he was embarrassed, more or less nervous, over how defensive he was over his boss. 

At the very least, in front of Sylvia.

‘ _The Zbornak,_ ’ he corrected himself, outwardly shaking his head.

“Relax, Peepers, I’m just yanking on that friendship chain of yours,” she assured, placing her now empty soda on his nightstand. It was already gathering condensation, tarnishing the surface, successfully annoying him. “You and ‘ _the most wicked awesome authority this galaxy over_ ’ are too flarping easy to rile up.”

Swallowing back a nasty retort, Peepers hastily reminded himself that was exactly what she wanted; to upset him, to anger him, to get him worked up over her teasing. It didn’t make him feel any better knowing this, because Peepers then would have to admit it was working.

“So, if I’m stuck in this room,” Sylvia threw a somewhat disinterested look in his direction. “With you,”

“What exactly is there to do?”

Peepers crossed his arms, eye narrowing into a glare. “What, I have to entertain you, too?”

“Well, if you’re going to keep me cooped up in here like a prisoner, yes.” Sylvia scoffed. “Might as well have thrown me in one of your dingy cells, would have been about the same.”

Peepers huffed as he made his way across the room. As he sat himself at the edge of the bed, he was mindful to keep his back to her, out of his own form of respite, as he narrowed his eye over his shoulder.

“My orders were to allow you on the ship, nothing more.”

“Mmmm, gonna have to tell Lord Hater about this,” Sylvia murmured as she slipped off the mattress, which shifted audibly again from her weight. “Not sure if he’ll be too happy.”

“Oh, please,” Peepers rolled his eye at her empty threat. “Like he could care less.”

“Yeah, true,” Sylvia took her time as she approached Peepers’ bookcase. It was massive, impressive Peepers liked to think, and she hardly hid her interest as she began to finger the binds of a few books. 

“He’s too wound up in Wander to care, anyway.”

“Then again,” Her sigh sounded none too sincere as she threw a sideways look in the commander’s direction. “That might make Wander sad, and I don’t think ‘ _Hatey_ ’ wants that, right?”

The breath Peepers let out held every ounce of animosity he was feeling.

“What do you want to do,” His voice was clearly strained.

“Well, so far, making fun of you has been sufficing well enough,” Sylvia murmured as she pulled a book out from one of the shelves, examining it closely. 

“And when you have a copy of Hater’s ‘ _well renowned, totally didn’t have to threaten people to buy it,_ ’ biography sitting here, waiting to be mentioned and used against you, it only makes it sweeter.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re a good guy?” Peepers asked, eye narrowing as he watched her flip through the novel, only for her to chuckle at whatever she was reading.

“Hm, me? Yeah, I think so,” Sylvia admitted as she skimmed through a few more pages. “After all, I only beat up on jerks like you.”

“Oh, what a saint you are,” Again, Peepers wasn’t shy about dealing out his own nasty remarks.

“Hey, look, pacifism? That’s Wander’s thing,” Sylvia promised, slamming the book shut with a scoff. “Not mine.”

“I can tell,” Peepers had enough bruises from her to know.

“...Did you _really_ get this signed by him?” she asked as she examined the novel’s cover. Having heard enough, Peepers stood and marched over with a scowl, ripping the book from out of her hands.

“Haven’t you had enough of teasing me over Lord Hater!?” Peepers nearly snarled as he shoved the book back into it’s place, careful to make sure the row was still alphabetized after doing so.

“Nope.” Sylvia was smiling beside him, only this time, it lacked it’s usual unkindness.

“If it makes you feel better, I teased Wander about owning his book, too,” Peepers felt his pupil widen at her admission, the snide edge to her grin quickly returning.

“After all,” After tracing the jag of his lightning bolt, Sylvia pushed Peepers helmet over his eye before making her way back to the bed. “he has _three_ copies.”

Peepers shoulders sagged as he slipped his helmet upright on his head again. 

Just when he thought he was (slowly, but surely) coming to terms with Wander’s and Hater’s relationship, it very easily made his skin crawl, particularly when Sylvia spoke so… _casually_ of it.

“Yeah, he would, I know, he _like_ likes Hater,” Peepers growled as he sat on the edge of his mattress. “Don’t remind me.”

“Hater been chattering over him non-stop too?” Sylvia asked, once again making her way onto the bed. She laid back with her arms behind her head, staring up at the ceiling with, what Peepers thought finally, was a look of unhappiness. 

“He’s finally taken obsessed to a new level.” Peepers admitted, feeling his shoulders angle up at the very mention. 

“Mmmm, hasn’t been all too easy on this end, either,” Sylvia shuddered. “Wander has never been one to keep details to himself, trust me.”

“Oh, I do, you don’t need to elaborate.” Peepers made a sound of disgust at the very idea.

“Yeah,” Sylvia let out an uneasy huff before she shrugged, the sides of her mouth pulling in resignation. “Oh well.”

That made Peepers blink and turn around, finding her far too passive for his liking, eyeing her with confusion. 

“‘ _Oh well?_ ’” Peepers repeated, his voice quickly angering. “What do you mean, ‘ _oh well,_ ’ that’s all you have to say about it?!”

Sylvia reared back her head, throwing a confused glare across the room. “Um, yes? Look, by all means, I do _not_ like Hater, but,”

Again, rolling her shoulders, Sylvia’s expression softened as she scoffed at Peepers. 

“If Hater makes Wander happy, I’m going to have to learn to at the very least tolerate him, if I want to or not.”

“Even if you can’t stand him?” Peepers voice was growing in pitch the angrier he became. 

“Even if he’s against everything you believe in? Even if you’ve watched him, time and time again, destroy everything you single handedly worked on? Even if you’re watching him change your best friend before your eyes, you’re just going to lay there and let it happen?!”

“Uh, yeah?” it was Sylvia’s turn to sound slightly confused. “Isn’t that what you’re doing _now_?”

Peepers, remembering where he was in the current moment—namely, _who_ he was with—deflated where he sat.

“I suppose,” Peepers huffed, squeezing his fists tight in irritation.

“Look,” Sliding down the bed, Sylvia mindfully kept space between them as she took a seat beside him at the edge.

“Do you think I like this?” The breath she let out sounded amused, but not without disbelief. 

“Wander with _Hater_ , of all people?! I can’t _stand_ it, but I put up with it because I have to! That’s just what best friends do!”

“Yeah, not without taking Lord Hater aside and _threatening_ him,” Peepers regarded her with a weary frown, not needing either Hater or Sylvia to fill him on what happened during their little excursion; he had a good guess. “Before his date, no less!”

“Says the guy who nearly _strangled_ Wander today.” Sylvia rolled her eyes as Peepers turned to her, completely frazzled.

“I couldn’t help myself, he’s just,” Nice words fell flat on Peepers tongue, so he settled on the truth.

“Grop, he’s so infuriating! How do you put up with him—how do you _travel_ with him, for days on end?!”

“Are you,” Sylvia was quickly sounding annoyed herself. “Lord Hater’s _personal assistant_ , asking me how _I_ put up with Wander? Please, hanging out with the biggest _jerk_ in the galaxy can hardly be a walk in the park!”

“Why hello there!” With his voice full of insincere chipper, Peepers ignored Sylvia as he did his best impression of the Wanderer.

“Folks call me Wander! I’m just a friendly, ragamuffin yokel with an attention span that could put an ant to shame!

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be interferin’ in on y’business _constantly_ , serenading you with hick jams and _wovin’_ hugs, foiling y’plans, your _good, totally well thought out and valuable_ plans and making a big happy, joke of it, because somehow, in this peanut sized brain of mine, I think I’m helpin’! At the very least, I’ll pull something out of m’hat, because it’s magical, because _of course_ I have a magical hat! Me, Wander, the annoying, unkempt space hippy that will follow you around, like the _plague_ , till y’like me!”

“Oh, please!” Sylvia puffed her chest out, her voice low and gruff, as she imitated Lord Hater. 

“It is I, the self proclaimed and _absolutely_ diluted greatest in the galaxy, _Lord Identity Crisis_! I think I’m the coolest and most totally rad ruler, that I'm the galaxy’s number one super star, because I said so! I get the things that I want with loud yelling and throwing tantrums, I am as unlikable as I look and painfully awkward. Don’t be fooled though, because I may talk a big game and use my powers for intimidation, but I’m actually a big _cry baby_ and pathetically insecure. The only reason I’m so ‘evil’ is for validation, seeking it in desperate droves from both myself and my peers!”

With their glares locked and their fists clenched, Peepers found himself leaning closer, craning his neck up to scowl at her as she bent down to do the same. Tracing the length of her snout with his eye, he was close enough to feel her breath on his face, which drew out of her in short pants, like the angry snort of a horse. 

That’s when she started to laugh, taking Peepers aback. After his initial shock dissipated, Peepers began to laugh too. 

They began to laugh together, hard enough for Sylvia to steady herself with a hand on his shoulder, Peepers leaning close to keep from falling off the bed.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you,” She admitted with a reluctant smile as she turned away, wiping a tear from her eyes. “You have Wander’s accent fairly down pat.”

“Yeah?” Peepers decided to leave out all the times he had practice making fun of him, having the strange urge to continue the somewhat relaxed mood in the room. “Well— _Lord Identity Crisis_ wasn’t half bad.”

“You know what, optic nerd?” Sylvia let out a sigh that lacked it’s usual exhaustion; it almost sounded fond.

“I may not be able to stand you,” Peepers was suddenly all too aware of her hand on his shoulder, feeling warm over the idea as he struggled not to focus on it. “But you know what I put up with, because you put up with ten times more—I can appreciate that.”

“Yeah, well,” Peepers eye felt weirdly hot as he fisted at the bed sheets beneath him, pulling at it in a means of distraction. “There have been lesser alliances made over mutual misery.”

“Yeah?” The squeeze she gave to his shoulder finally made Peepers look up at her, and, against all odds, he felt his stomach flutter.

Up until she pushed his helmet over his eye, infuriating him, hearing the clear smile in her voice as she did so.

“I bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaaaay, so a few things!
> 
> Next chapter is a big one. Like, both for the plot and quite literally, it’s friggin’ huge, lmao. Enough so that I may release it as two chapters, I’m not sure. But do not fret, they’d only be within a week of each other—unless you’re cool with one big chapter...? Please, feel free to let me know, either here or on tumblr! Keep in mind there will also be an epilogue as well.
> 
> In regards to the story: MULTIPLE SOURCES LEFT ME TO CHOSE MUSTARD FOR HATER, including [this](https://youtu.be/Vi8BklRMTVs?t=53s) scene and [this](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/146972582980/guysguysguys) post, it only seemed right.
> 
> Andddd, yeah. I think that’s it for now. WANDER AND HATER ARE GONNA DO THE DO THOUGH, ARE YOU EXCITED? I’m nervous, honestly, I hope I do it justice. ~~I hope you appreciate car sex as much as I do, kjfjkjf.~~
> 
> Please, comment, share your opinions, stop by on [my tumblr](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/) and say hi. Till next time, loves!


	7. Chapter Seven: The First Time Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should have expected the sappy, glassy eyed looked Wander was throwing at him—he had been tormenting him with it since day once, after all—but now, instead of bringing him anguish, it casted warmth all throughout him, making his chest tight, but not unpleasantly so. He still felt undoubtedly nervous, but he also felt appreciated, acknowledged, and _validated_ , in a way he had never felt before, even with his years spent grounding whole societies and conquering planets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello, my friends, I am here, I am alive, and I COME BEARING AN UPDATE!!!
> 
> I’ll keep this short: So, with Chapter 7 being a whopping 70 pages, I had to cut it down into three sections. Bear with me, I will be updating them as soon as possible!
> 
> I am again blessed by a couple of lovely, talented artists in the fandom, who were kind enough to draw some art for the fic!
> 
> Thanks to [iggcat95](http://iggycat95.tumblr.com/) for drawing me not [one](http://iggycat95.tumblr.com/post/152895439014/more-fluffies-for-spacecrunched-because-i-havent), but [two](http://iggycat95.tumblr.com/post/152892639764/just-a-little-something-for-spacecrunched-for) pieces for the fic! I feel like Wander is constantly touching at Hater’s face to kiss him, just loves the intimacy and closeness of it all, it’s so cute! As for the second picture, well, that scene on Gorzalon-10 was really important to both the story and me, so to see it captured so nicely is awesome. Thanks again, love!
> 
> Thanks to [strawberryroandragon](http://strawberryroandragon.tumblr.com/) for [this](http://strawberryroandragon.tumblr.com/post/155882755671/before-toeing-one-foot-to-the-floor-and-thats) piece! I love your style, it’s so unique and clever, I just LOVE your interpretation of Wander. Plus, his expression? Is priceless and spot on! Thanks again, darling!
> 
> Thanks to [thefrenchracoonsblog](http://thefrenchracoonsblog.tumblr.com/) for [this](http://thefrenchracoonsblog.tumblr.com/post/156148010441/so-ive-been-re-reading-spacecruncheds-fanfic#notes) piece! Oh man, it is so lovely! I love the one of him on Hater’s lap, eating the sandwich, when he’s calling him ‘Hatey-baby’ in the top left corner--I love them all! Thank again, sweetie!
> 
> Thanks again to aloneindarknes7 for beta'ing, I appreciate it, as always!
> 
> I’m honestly so thankful for all the support, the comments, the kudos, the art--all of it!
> 
> And a friendly reminder: This is NSFW--if you’re not of age, you shouldn’t be here, reading this! It’s not going anywhere, wait a few years before you get involved in this garbage.
> 
> So, without further ado…

‘ _Okay,_ ’

Hater swung open the double doors of the trunk with Wander by his side, the two of them taking in the empty state of the back in mutual silence.

‘ _Coulda sworn remembering this being way cooler than it is._ ’

Although stocked with the bare minimum, it was at least a lot cleaner than he recalled. No thanks to him, wrappers from various fast food joints, convenience stores, and inter-galactic delis would be tossed haphazardly over the front seat, till Peepers became frustrated enough to do a sweep of the back.

The carpet, although considerably cleaner than when it was purchased, was still reminiscent of a time full of more questionable decorating choices, and had seen brighter and better days.

Tucked in the back was a rusted hot plate, a lumpy bean bag chair and a milk crate, where Hater and Peepers would regularly sit to “scheme” in privacy. For the most part, apart from the sparse decor and a handful of Hater’s belongings, the back was completely barren, and was noticeably the least lived in part of the vehicle.

Glimpsing into the back of the van was eerie; it was a musty memoir showing Hater’s roots as a villain, now unearthed and vulnerable. With feelings of nostalgia and weariness, it was a personal reminder on how far he’d come when it came to galactic domination.

Annoyingly enough, it also reminded him where he was today with his lack thereof.

During a simpler time, Hater and Peepers merely prefered bullying rather than tyranny, sticking to atomic wedgies and wet willies, not absolute power and dictatorships.

“So,” Wander turned to Hater, pulling him closer by the hand, till the little alien’s fur tickled his arm. Blinking up at him with excitement, Wander was another reminder—a more self-less, excitable and fuzzy one—of his evil metamorphosis.

Leaping light years past ‘ _KICK ME_ ’ signs and noogies, there he stood in a present where he, Lord Hater, the most dastardly dude in the whole wide Galaxy, was dating his once aggravating and most despised enemy: the ever kind and jolly, ‘ _give the fur right off his very back_ ,’ Wander.

Sure, it sounded weird in his head, and probably looked even weirder to any outsider looking in, if his Watchdog’s reactions were anything to go by. Yet, as Hater squeezed Wander’s hand, he felt not only assured, but strangely at peace with it all.

“This is where Peepers and y’started, huh?”

Hater had filled Wander in a little about his earlier days in the van on the walk over, enough to tell him how and where they traveled, yet mindful to leave out the bits and pieces of hitting folks on different planets with mega-spitballs and swirlies.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Hater took a deep breath, taking in the van’s meager innards.

“Whelp,” Hater’s mouth sloped downwards in immediate displeasure. “This place stinks too, why did we leave the Skull-Ship again?”

He couldn’t help but reflect on the state of _Gorzalon-10_ when saying it; Hater’s brilliant ideas falling pathetically flat seemed to be the general theme of the evening.

“Hey now, this place doesn’t stink!” With a pout, Wander pulled Hater’s arm closer once again, protectively so. “At least I don’t think so!”

At the serious tone in Wander’s voice, Hater blinked down at the nomad, only to find him peering back up at him in return.

“This is important t’you Hater, if y’wanna say it or not,” Back again with a smile, Wander wiggled a playful finger along one of Hater’s ribs, successfully making him bite back a laugh.

With a hand on his hip, Wander brandished the same finger cheekily.

“The past makes us who we are, Hater! Our pasts help us grow into a brighter future, and a life without a past ain’t much of a life at all,“ Wander tilted his head rather sweetly.

“Besides, this is where y’became, well, _you_! Y’can’t forget where ya started!”

“First off,” Feeling stubborn and grumpy, Hater crossed his arms and huffed, pouting petulantly off into the distance.

“This isn’t where I became me because I’ve always been awesome since, like, _birth_ , ” Hater said, carefully smacking Wander’s hand away. “And second, my galaxy, _my rules_ , I can forget whatever I darn well please, this dump included, _thank you_!”

“Well, I don’t see why y’would, is all ‘m sayin’!”

Hater watched as Wander tried to wiggle himself into the van by the edge of the bumper, feeling himself turn green despite himself. As the little alien kicked his legs, too short to reach the ground, Hater was unable to avoid thinking about how cute he was.

“After all, I jus’ simply love this carpet, how _groovy_!”

“Don’t say groovy, don’t _ever_ say groovy,” Hater mumbled as he looped one arm around Wander’s waist, carefully hoisting him into the van along with him. Hater hopped in with one easy step, up until he hit his head on the ceiling with a soft ‘ _oof_ ,’ glaring at the roof with disdain.

He seemed to remember it being less cramped and the ceiling being higher, too, as he rubbed at his skull in irritation. “Came with the van, it looks kinda ratty,”

“But,” Hater paused, digging his heels into the carpet, till his feet sunk into it’s worn out folds. “I’m kinda glad Peepers kept it.”

It seemed like Hater had a soft spot for fluffy things, anyway.

“And would y’jus’ look at this!” Not waiting for an invite, Wander flopped himself down into the worn in leather of the beanbag chair, sinking into it instantly with an audible crunch of styrofoam, till Hater could only see his feet.

“A bean bag chair!” Wander’s voice was noticeably muffled.

Despite his scoffing, Hater couldn’t help but regard the sight affectionately.

“Get out of there, you weirdo.”

Pulling Wander from out of it, Hater watched as the little creature gasped for air, but not without a smile.

“But it’s so comfy!”

“Yeah, well,” Hater plopped down into it instead, sinking in as he pulled Wander onto his lap.

“I’m way more comfy. I’m the comfiest, even.”

“Do y’have the _Comfiest Lap in the Galaxy_?” Hater’s mouth twitched in amusement.

“Greatest _and_ comfiest, actually.”

With a playful giggle, Wander leaned in close to peck him on the lips. “Mmmm, ‘m afraid I can’t argue that.”

The star nomad was so small yet so warm against Hater. With his arms circling Hater’s neck and his legs squeezing him about the pelvis, Wander bowed forward, eyes half lidded, mouth curled up and coy.

Hit with the familiar scent of pine cones and dry leaves, Hater thought of their first day in the Smooch Room, and then their first night in his bedroom, when he was overwhelmed with the scent of him. Similar to that evening, Hater was unable peel his eyes from off of Wander’s lips as he leaned in closer, too.

Hater’s mouth found Wander’s, who pressed up eagerly and pulled him closer with a purr. It had felt like forever since Hater had held him like this; despite them not having many intimate experiences to share, kissing Wander felt natural. It was almost like Lord Hater had fallen for Wander since the day he had met him rather than desperately trying to maim him. It felt easy, pleasant and admittedly hot.

Hater was more than willing to create more memories for them to share as he ran a hand along the Wanderer’s thigh. Moving his tongue forward in the hopes of deepening the kiss, Hater just managed to press it along the fur on Wander’s bottom lip before the little alien turned away to gasp.

“Woah, s’that a _Gzerpson_?!”

Leaving Hater with his mouth hanging open mid- _frzzerp_ , Wander was slipping off him and reaching for the guitar resting beside them, which sat forgotten against its amp.

“Uh,” Hater watched as Wander situated himself on the egg crate across from him, speaking with a glare once he pulled his tongue back into his mouth. “Yeah?”

“I brought it with me, cause, I dunno,” Hater shrugged, feeling colder now that Wander was out of his lap. “I thought you’d like to see it or something.”

It was partially the truth; Hater decided to leave out the more embarrassing parts as he watched Wander pull out a pick wedged between two strings.

“Aww, really?” Wander looked touched, making Hater frown and blush in return. “And it jus’ happens t’be the _Explorer_ model?”

“Yeah, okay, I thought you would appreciate that too, now come back here!”

Wander took no notice to his agitation as he came back to sit on him, the guitar now in his lap, as he slipped happily between Hater’s legs.

“Y’sure like me sittin’ in y’lap, huh?”

“It’s only ‘cause you’re warm!” Hater snapped, but Wander’s knowing smile, annoying as ever, wore him down.

“And maybe because you sort of feel nice there, now shut up so I can show you something.”

Pressing his palm against the unplugged amp, Hater channeled enough spark to power it, careful not to harm Wander in the process. When the instrument boomed at the sudden coarse of electricity, Wander let out an excited squeak and hugged the guitar closer.

“Oh m’goodness, Hatey!” Looping his hands about Hater’s so he could successfully strum the guitar, Wander fingered the frets and bounced about excitedly on his knee caps.

“That’s amazin’, I’ve never seen anythin’ like that!”

“Yeah, well,” Hater let out a self-assured sigh as he used his free hand to casually push his horns back.

“ _Best Guitar Player in the Galaxy_ has to be able to play whatever, _whenever_ , right?”

“I’d say so!” Wander was more than eager to slip the strap from off of him as he turned to face Hater, pushing the guitar into his open hand.

“Uh?” Hater stared befuddled at the guitar now in his grasp.

“Well, will y’play a lil’ somethin’?” With a flutter of his lashes, Wander threaded his fingers beneath his chin, letting out a small, trill of joy.

“For me?”

The jitters from earlier, which finally seemed far, far away, were crawling along Hater’s insides like pins and needles, sweat beading along his forehead as he twisted uncomfortably.

“Uh, well, it’s, it’s kind of funny that you mention it,” Hater regarded the instrument with fear, holding it away from him as far as his arm would allow.

“Not funny like, ‘ _haha-I-could-never-do-that, I’m-way-too-flarping-nervous_ ’ funny but, but the coincidental, ‘ _happen-perchance_ ’ type of funny that, you know, nerds like.”

“Oh?” Wander cocked his head in interest, curling closer against Hater’s thigh. “Why do y’say that, Hatey?”

“I just,” Hater fell quiet as he tried to find the proper words, terrified of ruining the mood of their first date.

“Well, you know,” Hater traced the lines of the guitar’s strings with his fingers as he avoided Wander’s stare.

“I remember how much emphasis you put on being nice to Dominator and like, how I should make her feel special and ask her questions and junk so, I kinda, maybe,” the longer he could feel Wander’s eyes on him, the more anxious Hater became, and he couldn’t help but worry at the strings of his guitar as he tried to fill the silence.

Hater knew he had said too much to go back; he had revealed enough of his embarrassing idea for Wander’s interest to be piqued. Although he sat quietly across from Hater, Wander’s stare bore into him, expectant, as he waited for the skeleton to finish.

“I, I thought it would be cool if I wrote you a song,” Hater hated the way his voice cracked, but he forced a weak smile anyway.

“Or something.”

Still refusing to look at Wander, Hater needed only one more second of uncomfortable silence before his mind ran wild, pulling his hand from off the amp, successfully silencing it.

“Look, I know it’s not really that original of an idea, because, well, I did it for her, and _awesomely_ , may I add, but, it just,” 

Unable to help himself, Hater’s words were practically free falling from off his tongue, as his eyes darted across the van.

“It just seemed unfair and all that I wrote a song for her, w-when she didn’t even appreciate just how awesome it was, and not for you, who is like, y’know,”

Hater tentatively peeked up, sounding shy as he whispered. “Sweet and cute and, and likes me and stuff.”

Again, Hater was offered an answer he didn’t like, or really, a _lack_ of an answer, as Wander sat breathless in front of him, face unchanged, eyes wide and mouth tight.

“Hatey,” Wander’s voice was soft and hard to read. The fact Hater refused to look anywhere from the neck up on the Wanderer didn’t help him, either, as he answered with trepidation.

“Yeah?”

When Wander continued to keep quiet, Hater sucked in a deep breath, afraid of what he would find as he finally met the alien’s face.

He should have expected the sappy, glassy eyed looked Wander was throwing at him—he had been tormenting him with it since day once, after all—but now, instead of bringing him anguish, it casted warmth all throughout him, making his chest tight, but not unpleasantly so. He still felt undoubtedly nervous, but he also felt appreciated, acknowledged, and _validated_ , in a way he had never felt before, even with his years spent grounding whole societies and conquering planets.

“So,” Hater started, face turning a light shade of emerald. “I take it you like the idea?”

“Hatey,” Wander repeated, voice quivering as he took Hater by both of the hollows of his cheek to lean up and kiss him. Despite the tenderness behind it, Hater didn’t try to deepen it; it felt right just the way it was.

“Like it?” Wander let out a loud, overzealous squeal.

“ _Like it_?! I wanna _hear_ it, I _gotta_ hear it, please, please, _pretty_ please, with chocolate, whip cream, no skippy-scoops on top!?”

“Well, uh,” Hater struggled to speak in between the little, ticklish kisses Wander was pressing all along his face, nearly fumbling the guitar as he tried to straighten up. “It’s, it’s nothing special, it’s not done yet!”

Okay, Hater was back to feeling nervous; this wasn’t just some dumb groupie he was trying to impress, this was _Wander_ , someone who was skillful when it came to music. The nomad seemed to have the ability to pick up just about any instrument and know it from tab to scale, and although Hater could play decently enough, he couldn’t help but feel well, a little inferior to Wander when it came to the guitar.

_Lord Hater and the Harbingers of Doom_ didn’t do romance music, as it was. Hater (namely his ghostwriter) kept to topics that were included in most genres of metal: blood, death, torture, throwing in maybe the occasional pretty riff but otherwise, keeping it _brutal_. Writing love songs wasn’t really his thing. Wander had helped him write a good portion of his serenade for Dominator; Hater didn’t exactly know how to write a song _for_ him!

“Besides, I can’t play the guitar and power the amp, all at the same time,” With his head hanging low, Hater looked up at Wander dolefully. “It won’t sound as good.”

“But,” Wander brought Hater back down to _Gorzalon-10_ when he gave him his usual, big fluttery-eyed stare, the one that made his guts feel funny.

“I can still get a feel for it! Can I jus’ hear even a lil’ of it, Hatey? I jus’ know it’s gonna be great!”

Wander’s adorable pout made Hater sigh; the little Wanderer suddenly knew how to appeal to him, didn’t he? How far he had come from death threats.

“Fine,” Hater said with an irritated huff, shooting Wander a pointed frown.

“But you can’t tell anyone else about it!” he growled, finally calming as he balanced the curve of the guitar’s body across his knee.

“Until, you know,” Hater slung the strap over himself lazily. “It’s finished, at least.”

“I promise! Let me jus’,”

Wander was slipping himself from out of Hater’s lap to give him better access to the instrument, resuming his spot on the egg crate as he stared Hater down with wide, shiney pupils.

“Oh ‘m goodness, ‘m so excited! S’like m’own lil’ private show.”

Wander was throwing him a seductive smirk, which didn’t help quell Lord Hater’s nerves.

“Alright, be quiet already!” Hater hissed, glad when Wander obeyed, yet the nomad’s excitement was still written all across his grin.

Hater tried to stall time as he reached up to tune his guitar, his stomach going tight as Wander shuffled his sneakers along the carpet in anticipation.

Hater cleared his throat as he planted his feet firmly, sitting one hand on the guitar’s neck, and strumming loosely with the other. With the amp powered down, the guitar’s notes were dulled, but would still give Wander an idea of how the song would sound once finished.

“It’s really not done. And I’m still working out the kinks, but,” Dragging the pic gently across the guitar, Hater cleared his throat, stuttering with the first few of his lyrics.

“ _S-Some people like to say that love drives you mad,_ ” Hater was determined not to sound scared as he sat up straight, centering himself in the bean bag chair as he began to pick at the strings.

“ _and they weren’t lying when it came to space nomads_  
_They like to say that love works in mysterious ways_  
_There's nothing more mysterious than furry, little strays_

_I used to think you were weird with your fuzzy embraces_  
_Love really shows up in abrupt and weird places_  
_You always drove me crazy, you were my greatest foe_  
_Now you’re my everything, my sunshine banjo_

_So even with the galaxy coming to an end_  
_I’m not gonna be a good guy, but something's gotta bend_  
_I’m done saying no, I’m done trying to pretend_  
_So you’re not just a lover, you’re also a friend.”_

“And, um,” Hater took a deep breath, now conscious of his heart’s intense throbbing against his diaphragm.

And then there was Wander, staring at him. His mouth was a small dot hidden amongst the depths of his fuzzy face, brows lost beneath the brim of his hat, eyes impossibly wide.

“Yeah.”

Hater didn’t know what else to say as he nudged the guitar strap from off of him, swallowing before shrugging meekly.

“I’m working on that. For you.”

“Gonna keep working on it, too, probably,” Hater could find himself starting another case of terrible rambling. “T-that is if you like it. Like, I don’t think I’ll be able to two-step to it, but—”

Wander was soundless as he slipped from off the egg crate to slide into his lap, Hater propping the guitar against the amp.

“That is,” As the little nomad fisted at the front of his robes, Hater hated how Wander’s earnest, watery look made his own eyes burn.

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,”

Wander’s voice had a noticeably quiver as he slowly smiled. “S’that really for me?”

“It’s got flarping sunshine banjo and space nomad right in it, so yeah, it’s clearly for you.” Hater’s face burned as he turned to look down, but Wander’s hands were quick enough on his cheeks to stop him, so they were looking eye to eye.

“So,” Hater felt more vulnerable than he would have liked, but he had also just performed a love ballad he had written for Wander not even moments ago. He did so fairly successfully, apparently, enough for Wander to gush over him, and that made him feel a little more at ease.

“Does that mean you like it?”

“I like it a lot,” Wander whispered before he pressed his mouth against his jaw, warm and slow. “Does that mean we’re friends?”

“Uh, yeah, it means we’re friends,” The way Hater scoffed, offended, like Wander shouldn’t even ask him such a question, made him pause.

“Yeah, we’re friends, but, um,”

So far, for Hater, their first date had been a bad case of “ _the should have been’s._ ”

The van should have been one of a kind for Wander, _Gorzalon-10_ should have been scenic, his song should have been finished.

More importantly, this wasn’t the way he had pictured asking Wander to be his boyfriend, but here he was, with his hands on Wander’s hips, staring down at him, throat impossibly tight as he coaxed himself to speak.

“We should date,” Hater cleared his throat, feeling impossibly stupid as Wander blinked at him in confusion.

“And I mean, not go on a date—well, yeah, okay, we’re gonna go on dates, but like, we should date date. Be more than friends. Be more than lovers. We should, I don’t know,”

Hater turned green for what felt like the hundredth time. “We should be friends who are boys, w-who are more than friends. We should, be like,”

“Well, boyfriends.”

Wander’s face fell, his eyes opening the way they always did when he was taken by surprise.

“Hatey,” Wander perked up straight and tilted his head to the side, till his hat nearly lobbed from off his head.

“Are y’tryin’ t’make us official?”

“Maybe,” Hater whispered, his chest feeling uncomfortably tight at the possibility of rejection.

When Wander let out an excited squeal as a response, Hater sighed, but he kept his grip right where it was, on his hips.

“‘M sorry!” Wander used both hands to fan at his eyes in an attempt to fight off tears, letting out a deep, controlled breath.

“I know, I _know_ , y’gonna say ‘m bein’ all _me_ about this but!”

Before Hater could verify indeed, Wander was making it all _Wandery_ , the little alien let out a soft purr as he nuzzled himself closer, till he could turn his head up and press a kiss right on the jut of Hater’s jaw.

“I was waitin’ for y’to ask!”

“Well,” Hater blanched, feeling foolish again. “Why didn’t _you_ ask!?”

“I didn’ wanna rush you, Hatey, I wanted y’to ask me on y’own terms!” Wander cooed as moved to peck him on the lips, eyes sparkly and sweet.

“Whatever,” Hater gruffed, frowning down at Wander. “So we’re boyfriends.”

“Yup.”

“It’s official?” Hater wanted to make sure.

“I don’t want to share you. I hate sharing,” he admitted, pouting stubbornly.

“Y’ain’t gotta share me with no one, don’t be silly! But it’s’nice t’hear y’say it,” He could tell the little nomad was fighting not to smile wide.

“T’hear y’call us _boyfriends_ ~”

“Yeah, well,” Hater reached up the back of Wander’s neck to thread his fingers through his fur, watching the way the little alien hummed and fluttered his eyes with satisfaction.

“Can’t really call you my greatest enemy anymore, can I?”

“I’d let y’call me that,” Wander spoke slowly as he leaned in close, looking suggestive with lazy eyes.

“If it made y’happy, Hatey.”

“Boyfriends is fine,” Hater murmured as he ran a hand down Wander’s back, unable to stop himself from openly eyeing Wander’s lips. “I like boyfriends.”

“Me too,” Wander agreed as he pressed a kiss to Hater’s mouth. It was chaste, but Wander made sure to linger, throat vibrating with a purr. “I like boyfriends a lot.”

“Yeah?” Hater ran a hand up and down the fur of his spine, till the other’s purring grew louder. “You, uh— _like_ like it?”

When he earned a giggle from Wander, an absurdly cute one, Hater couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even when Wander kissed him again.

“A’course I _like_ like it,” The way Wander was staring up at him, his cheeks stained red, his eyes all encompassing, made Hater’s stomach seize up.

“I _like_ like you.”

He didn’t flinch when Wander wordlessly pushed his hood from off his head, biting back a shiver when soft, fuzzy fingers lingered over his horns. Tenderly brushing his hands along Hater’s skull, Wander was back to straddling him, feeling warm against his lap, as he pressed his mouth back onto Hater’s.

Hater didn’t hesitate to push his tongue against Wander’s lips, happy when he kissed back in turn, finally granting Hater the _frzzerp_ kiss he had been pining for since the night in his bedroom.

He made sure to kiss Wander sweet and slow; he wouldn’t say it out loud, but he wanted to savor his first kiss with Wander as not his enemy, but his _boyfriend_. He wanted to remember the little way Wander crooned into his mouth, how he shivered and arched his back, how tight his legs squeezed him by the sides as he pulled Hater closer.

He hardly had time to breathe between kisses, Wander pressing back onto him after swift inhales, his little hands grabbing at wherever he could reach. Hater shivered when he touched his cheeks, his antennas, the little bit of his spine that peeked out from beneath the back of his hood.

There was a familiar tightening low in Hater’s cloak by the time Wander was pulling away, sucking tantalizingly at his own bottom lip.

“Is this the point where you remind me that we still have a date to finish?” Hater’s voice sounded small and dazed as he focused on Wander’s mouth.

“Mmmm, well,” Both of Wander’s hands were making their way down his ribs, carefully tracing the indents within his robe and forcing Hater to bite back a groan.

“I was thinkin’ that maybe we could finish the date with a lil’ fun.”

“That is, if y’up for it,” Hater felt the familiar tug of lust between his legs as Wander reached up and traced a heart along the seam of his mouth. “Hatey-baby~”

“Yeah,” Clearing his throat and laughing nervously, Hater remembered a promise he made early on since planning for their first date: he would not let his nerves get the better of him, unlike the last time they were intimate.

“I’m _totally_ up for it.”

“I, I’ve been thinking about it constantly,” Hater murmured as he caressed down Wander’s stomach, well aware of what lied beneath, watching shyly as the other leaned into his touch and purred.

“Me too,” Wander answered, low and husky, as he ran a hand up Hater’s thigh, making his breath hitch at the touch.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it every night since.”

“Really?” Wander nodded and giggled softly.

“Well, uh, me too,” Hater smirked to himself; it was the truth, after all.

“I gotta say, you were actually, kind of, I don’t know,”

Hater ran his fingers through the hair low on Wander’s back to scratch, relishing the low groan that resonated in Wander’s throat.

“You were hot.”

Wander’s eyes lightened up at his admission.

“Really?” Leaning forward to gently fist at the front of his cloak, Hater could see that Wander was blushing as he brought their faces close.

“Yeah, really,” Hater was finding it hard to hold Wander’s stare as he sheepishly explained himself.

“I mean, you’re mostly cute, like, really, really cute, like, fluffy and cuddly cute, which I like! But, y’know,”

With a shrug, Hater gave the little nomad a squeeze on the hips, again, reminding himself to a have a little more confidence this time around.

“I think you’re a babe.”

Finally meeting Wander’s gaze, Hater could see the little alien was pleased with the answer, his eyes getting that usual flicker they got when Hater made him feel good, when he tried his best to be sweet.

“Mmm, well,”

Hater was caught completely off guard as Wander pressed back and dragged himself firmly across the skeleton’s crotch, making the overlord’s breath catch and his toes curl.

“There ain’t nobody hotter than you, Hatey.”

“O-of course!” Hater’s breath squeaked as he fingers dug into the sides of the bean bag chair.

It took everything within Hater not to grind up into him, fighting to keep some composure, but Wander’s backside was as warm and soft as the rest of him, and he couldn’t help but canter his hips up to meet his.

“Hottest—Hottest in the Galaxy, yeah, I know, are you going to tease me all night!?”

Wander let out an insufferable giggle, raising himself from off of Hater’s lap and taking the pleasantness of his weight right along with him.

“A’course not, silly, I wouldn’ do that t’you,” Wander promised as he hooked a finger under Hater’s chin.

“But I do wanna make it last.”

“Well, uh,”

Hater turned green at the thought; he’d be lying if he said the nights he spent thinking about and missing Wander didn’t also involve him testing and trying to prolong his, ahem, stamina. He knew it wouldn’t be the same as when he was alone, only better, and thus, shorter, but he hoped a little self love would improve his performance somewhat.

“Me too, obviously,” Hater huffed, rubbing his thumbs against Wander’s hips as he bounced up and down in irritation.

“But you’re also making it really, _really_ hard!”

“Makin’t _it_ hard or _you_ —”

“Don’t even!” Hater grumbled, putting his finger to Wander’s lip to silence him, but receiving a silly giggle from him anyway. “But, uh,”

Pulling his hand from off of his mouth, he traced it up Wander’s thigh instead.

“Wanna check out the front seat?” Hater raised both brows as he looked up from between Wander’s legs to his face.

“The last I remember, the seat goes all the way back.”

\---

“So, if you’re really insisting on keeping me locked up in your bedroom for hours on end,” Sylvia sighed as she flopped backwards against Peepers bed.

“Can you give me something to do? At least in the cells, I can stretch out a little. Can this bed be any smaller?”

“It’s a perfect size, Zbornak!” Peepers was quick to counter, all too defensively, and finding himself blushing despite not knowing why.

“I mean—Look, _David the Degenerate_ likes to wander about the guest rooms from time to time, I _could_ put you in a room over there—”

“Yeesh, okay, no thanks,” Sylvia murmured as she sat up again, reaching beneath her saddle. “Handsy isn’t my type, I’ll leave you to deal with him tonight.”

Peepers hadn’t realized with her quartered in his bedroom, he was now confirmed bedless, sighing in defeat.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“No problem,” Sylvia said with smugness, to which Peepers glared. When his eyeball fell on her, namely the bottle of champagne now in her possession, it was like his stomach dropped between his knees.

“AND JUST _WHERE_ DID YOU FIND THAT?!”

Ignoring his desperation and panic, Sylvia shrugged, wrapping the edge of his blanket around the bottle’s neck.

“Well, it was just kind of sitting on the counter, I figured it was up for grabs.”

“That is from Lord Hater’s private stash of _Zarmand Perzion!_ ”

The only reason there was a case open in the kitchen was for the date, as Lord Hater was not much of a drinker. Mentioned in one of Hater’s many rants revolving around his desire to impress Wander, Peepers had been careful to pack a bottle in the nomad’s basket.

“It’s anything _but_ up for grabs, it’s for Lord Hater and Lord Hater only!” Peepers could recall a death sentence or two proposed for any perpetrator stupid enough to take one.

“Lord Hater _and_ Wander now, apparently,” Sylvia corrected under her breath, carefully undoing the cork with a pop.

“ _Soooooo_ , I’m guessin’ this is the part where you yell at me for taking another three or four bottles of this stuff, right?”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

Leaping onto the mattress, Peepers tried his best to make a grab for the champagne, but to no avail; with a belittling smirk, Sylvia sat up straight and tall, holding it just out of his reach.

“Careful, you dork, you’re going to make it fizz up!”

With a firm hand to the chest, Sylvia knocked Peepers backwards, screwing his helmet over his eye once more.

“Cool it already, I’m sure he can spare a few.”

“Let me guess,” Sylvia held the bottle close, squinting at the label’s fine, golden script.

“He raided the planet that makes this stuff, didn’t he?”

Peepers huffed as he fixed his helmet, unsuccessfully reaching for it again. “And what if he did!?”

“Then that means he has like, a thousand or more cases, he won’t even notice!” Sylvia scoffed.

“Besides, Wander would want me happy, especially if he knew you were keeping me locked up in your bedroom—”

“Don’t say it like that!” Peepers felt his scalera heat up.

“Really, let’s face it,” Sylvia ignored him as she continued on, purposefully lowering the bottle. As soon as Peepers reached, Sylvia intentionally pulled it right back up, content watching him miss a third time.

“What better way of passing the time with someone you can’t stand than with a bottle of booze, hm?”

Bit by bit, Peepers could feel his resolve settling in.

It would make the time faster, he supposed. And after a long day spent dealing with the comedic tragedy that was now Lord Hater and Wander’s relationship, it would be refreshing. Feeling his muscles relax, Peepers lets his hand fall away besides his better judgement, till Sylvia smiled deviously at him from above.

“That’s what I thought, small fry.”

Sylvia sipped from the champagne before offering it in Peepers direction, raising both eyebrows in a challenge.

“I won’t tell Hater,” She gave the bottle a soft shake. “if you don’t.”

Peepers tried to envision Hater’s reaction to finding his priceless, multi- _brizillion_ credit champagne being opened and it actually going well, but he found himself coming up short. He also, however, found himself not caring all that much, as he looked between Sylvia and the offered drink.

He was supposed to keep her content at the very least, right? And maybe he could blame the loss on a few miscreant Watchdogs. With their stupidity and lack of direction, it wasn’t so far fetched.

‘ _Besides_ ,’ Peepers reminded himself. ‘ _He left you here with the Zbornak to go play_ 7-seconds-in-the-Hater-van _with Wander._ ’

It was all the convincing Peepers needed to make a swift swipe at the bottle, tilt it back against his eyelid, and take a long, hearty sip, till he could feel the bubbles of champagne burn from his throat down to his belly.

“Huh,” Syliva murmured as she watched him drink by the gulp-full.

“Still a sight to watch you and the other Watchdogs drink.”

Peepers shrugged as he sat himself beside her, throwing her a suspicious look.

“I don’t pretend to get your biology, Zbornak, you don’t need to pretend to get mine.”

“Relax,” Sylvia scoffed as she took the bottle, taking a long sip for herself. “Coming from a guy who is friends with a big, sentient skeleton.”

“And from the girl who hangs out with a fuzzy, annoying mop, give me that!”

Peepers snatched the bottle from her, taking another long, wistful drink. Feeling her sneer burning into him, Peepers stopped sipping with a look of contempt, the fizz of champagne making his stomach gurgle.

“I’m only doing this to make me spending my time with you a little easier,” Peepers gave a small hiccup. “Make no mistake.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she insisted as she reached under her saddle to fish out another bottle. “Wasn’t going to question the change of heart, either.”

“Yeah, but you were thinking it,” Peepers murmured, eyeing the bottle in his grasp more closely.

“Is it me, or did you picture a super, ridiculously overpriced champagne to taste better?”

“Eh,” Sylvia snorted through her nose as she carefully uncorked the second bottle.

“I’ve had better swill in the alleys of _YuovianX_ , but I’ve had plenty, plenty worse.”

“What were _you_ doing on _YuovianX_?” Peepers asked, feeling wary. The idea of both her and Wander traversing along any of the planets along the infamous _Black Market Highway_ seemed farfetched.

With a hint of amusement in her voice, Sylvia leaned back to stretch out, her sheer size making the bed creak.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, I would,” Crossing his legs, Peepers turned to face her, gesturing with the mouthpiece of his champagne.

“I know that Wander and you like to travel, but a stay on _YuovianX_ is a death wish,” Peepers spoke lower as he continued.

“Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sylvia cocked an amused eyebrow. “Considering _Wild Wooly Wander_ , but,”

Sylvia threw him a look, but it lacked it’s usual aversion as she took another drink, shrugging.

“That was before I met Wander.”

Pausing mid-sip, Peepers did a double take in Sylvia’s direction; now that was interesting.

“ _Before_ you met Wander?”

“Mmmm, yeah, what’s it to you?” Sylvia gruffed, neck straightening out and shoulders squaring off. “I had a life before Wander too, you know.”

“Yeah,” Peepers eyed her with scrutiny. “But what type of life was that, hanging out on _YouvianX_?”

Peepers knew he struck a tender nerve at the noticeable ruffle in her mane. Despite his curiosity, he felt a sliver of something uncomfortable in his guts.

When he started to feel, of all flarping things, a little _bad_ , he realized it was guilt, and his eyelid drooped in sorrow.

“Erm,”

“Don’t,” Sylvia stopped him from forcing out a very awkward apology.

“You’re right,” Looking pensively at the wall, she took another long sip. “It wasn’t much of a life, let alone a good one.”

Peepers gaze, as inquisitive as ever, didn’t waver from off of her, and she sighed stubbornly.

“I’m going to have to tell this story a second time today, aren’t I? Grop help me,” she murmured before moving her tail, opening up a good portion of the bed. When Peepers didn’t budge, merely watching her do so, she scoffed.

“Come over here, aqueous-face,” Sylvia nodded to the pillow open beside her, now freed from her tail. “I’m not yelling it across the room.”

Peepers regarded both her and the pillow— _his_ pillow—with mistrust. He was in dangerous _whacking-and-punching_ range of the Zbornak as it was, and being that close made him more apprehensive than usual.

He inched closer, unable to understand the awful sweating beneath his palms and how hot his eye felt beneath his helmet. When he sat beside her, careful not to touch, he told himself it wasn’t because she was the first girl in his bed. It certainly wasn’t because that girl just happened to be Sylvia, the big, brutish Zbornak, Wander’s ‘ _best buddy_ ,’ and the Hater Empire’s sworn enemy, feeling warm beside him.

“Alright,” Peepers scowled, crossing his arms. “Only because I’m curious. For blackmail and torture. Or for extorting a weakness, of course.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sylvia snorted, rolling her eyes, sipping from the champagne.

“Now shut up and listen, because I’m not telling this a third time…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH WOWEEEEE, WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT?
> 
> You know damn well what happens next, hehehe.
> 
> Till next time, or stop by and say hi!


	8. Chapter Seven: The First Time Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sitting up from off of him, Wander slipped himself lower along Hater’s body, till he was square in his lap again. When his stomach gave a familiar pull, Hater remembered the intentions behind bringing Wander up front, and his imagination kicked into overdrive. Despite his excitement, Hater felt slightly helpless as Wander purred out, low and keen, making his insides feel tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll keep this short. 
> 
> Again, thank you all for your lovely, amazing support. Again, I feel so fortunate and lucky to be involved in such an amazing fandom with such amazing people.
> 
> Thank you to my beta, of course, [aloneindarknes7](http://aloneindarknes7.tumblr.com/)! I wouldn’t have made it this far without you dude, thank you so, so much.
> 
> And I’d like to thank [iggcat95](http://iggycat95.tumblr.com/) for drawing me [two](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/156290943765/iggycat95-just-a-silly-doodle) [pieces](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/post/156563621325/iggycat95-more-fanart-for-spacecruncheds) that just--I LOVE?!?! First off, dude--you know how special the one of his feet sticking out to me is, haha, I love that scene. And on the second one-- the colors are absolutely GORGEOUS, Hatey looks so NEEDY and DESPERATE, I live.
> 
> I'd also like to thank [extraordinarycircus](http://extraordinarycircus.tumblr.com/) for [this](https://twitter.com/SkeletonDads/status/833775266967154688) piece! Omg, can we just take a second to appreciate--the expressions, WANDER'S SASSY SMILE, Hater's shakey, 'I'M-SO-FLARPING-NERVOUS' smile?! It's adorable, I LOVE IT, ugh!!!
> 
> All three revolve around the beanbag chair and I’m so happy I’m not the only one who loves this sorely outdated but still hella cool piece of furniture, haha! They’re adorable and so lovely and my dudes, thank you so much, as always, I am so grateful ;-; Thanks again to everyone who has drawn a pic for the fic, thank God for you artists, I love y'all! <3
> 
> So, here it is.
> 
> _The_ chapter.
> 
> I DID take a big liberty on Hater's anatomy this chapter, there will be more notes on it at the end of the chapter--please forgive me.
> 
> Please--PLEASE, I BEG YOU--if you’re not of age to read this, don’t read it. It’ll be here, in the archives of the disgusting internet, for many years to come, turn back while you still can.
> 
> Otherwise?
> 
> Enjoy~! (;

“So,”

Wander rubbed his hands together, looking positively pleased.

“Mr. Peepers’ was lookin’ t’pack us up a lil’ somethin’ special for the big night~!”

With his legs splayed wide and his back set straight, Wander straddled Hater close around the pelvis, making the skeleton inadvertently sweat.

It was nerve wracking enough they were now in the aforementioned front seat, which, as of sudden, felt all too bumpy and uncomfortable the longer Hater fixated. Hater found it hard to believe that with his unabashedly, open display, Wander wasn’t trying to tease him; it was taking everything within him not to draw his eyes downward.

“Uhhhhhh,”

Despite his avid curiosity, Hater made sure to keep his sights focused on Wander’s face in attempt at being courteous. The mention that Peepers, of all people, had packed up a gift of sorts for them, was a somewhat decent distraction.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmmm!”

As Wander reached for his forgotten picnic basket, Hater mindfully kept him steady with both hands on his hips. As Wander searched, Hater stared, though he saw very little. Leaning sideways, Wander drew up his knees just in the knick of time, barring Hater from any secret passes, much to the overlord’s frustration.

“He said you’d appreciate this!”

Hater’s gaze quickly switched back to Wander’s face as the little alien sat up and offered him a bottle of champagne.

“...Is that,”

Hater paused, reaching towards the bottle for closer inspection.

“Is that _Zarmand Perzion_?”

“Hm, I dunno!” Wander squinted to read the back of the label.

“Whatever it is, sure does look expensive!”

“Pfft, of course it is,” Hater turned it over in both hands as he read the label himself.

”It’s my super rare, ultra expensive, _if-I-find-out-anyone-else-has-drank-it-I’ll-totally-kill-Peepers_ champagne.”

Hater paused before grabbing at the cork. “Nice.”

“Well,”

Wander’s timbre fell low and husky as he slid even closer, locking their hips into place.

“Peepers _did_ say you’d like it,”

Hot and bothered, Hater ripped off the cork with a resounding ‘ _POP_ ,’ sending drops of champagne across the dashboard.

“W-well, um—!”

Hater should have known Wander’s promises to not tease him were all for naught.

“I didn’t,” Hater swallowed thickly, his mind swimming and his tongue tied, as Wander grabbed him by the sides of his hood. “I haven’t actually,”

Hater felt a telling twitch below his waist, his cloak suddenly sweltering against his bones.

“I-I was saving it for something special,” Hater looked up at Wander with shy eyes as he tried to keep composure.

“And what’s more special, than, y’know,”

Hater stared down the mouth of the bottle, into its gold, fizzy innards, before tentatively offering it to Wander.

“Than us becoming boyfriends?”

When Wander giggled, bright and bubbly, Hater felt his own lips twitch in spite of his nerves.

Okay, so was it all too hard to make Wander smile? Not exactly, but for certain it put Hater more at ease, despite their rather close proximity.

“ _Mmmm_ ,”

Hater was now officially convinced: the nomad was once again, _successfully_ , driving the overlord absolutely crazy.

“I can’t think of anythin’ more special than that, Hatey!”

With a tip of the bottle, Wander agreed, offering Hater a soundless ‘ _cheers_ ,’ before taking a long sip.

Hater watched the bob of Wander’s Adam’s apple with every generous gulp, entranced by the sight, fingers reaching instinctively to squeeze him by the hips. Although Wander keened into the touch, pressing himself against Hater in a way that was _oh_ so delectable, he looked distracted as he pulled the bottle off his lips, staring at the label with confusion. Almost instantly, his mouth drew back unpleasantly as if sucked on something sour; it wasn’t exactly the response Hater expected.

“Uh,” Without a word, Wander was quick to hand over the bottle to Hater, who blinked at both him and the champagne warily.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, well, a’course, ‘m jus’ fine!” Wander paused again, lips curled up and puckered in distaste, to which Hater frowned.

“It’s just,”

Wander went silent again, offering a weak smile. “It ain’t much of anythin’, really—”

“It’s just?” Hater reiterated, till Wander let out a noise of uncertainty.

Giving a shrug, the little Wanderer nodded towards the bottle with apprehension, motioning with both hands delicately.

“It’s jus’,” Wander clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, cheeks drawing in, mouth looping down in a frown. “It taste’s a lil,”

“It’s a tad _bitter_ , s’all.”

“Pfft, well, yeah?” Hater scoffed as he raised the bottle to drink.

“It’s the _fancy_ junk, Wander, it’s supposed to taste weird!” Hater tried to reason.

“I think?”

Staring at the label, Hater read it over one last time before taking a sip himself.

With watery eyes and trembling lips, Hater discovered that ‘ _bitter_ ’ wasn’t quite the word:

‘ _Bitter_ ’ was a mere understatement.

Hurriedly, Hater cranked down the window till it was rolled all the way open, spitting out his mouth’s contents in a spray of liquid, not shy as he yelled in exasperation.

“What the—UGH, EW, _GROSS_!”

Hater’s disgust echoed all throughout _Gorzalon-10_ ’s dried up fields, loud enough to send a brittle tree crumbling to the ground.

“WHAT _IS_ THIS CRUD?!”

Hater looked down at the bottle, absolutely appalled as he reared his skull back.

“Yeah, I don’t think I like it very much m’self,”

Wander took the champagne from Hater before he could hurl it off into the distance, inspecting its label again.

“I mean,” Wander tried, but even he was none too optimistic. ”the bottle is pretty!”

“But not worth a thousand credits, jeez!”

Not an ounce of love was lost on Hater as he emptied the bottle out the window.

“I know I’m a bad guy but talk about the _real_ crooks!”

“Don’t throw it out, Hatey!” Wander’s voice was near warbling as he reached out the window.

“Please, I can recycle it!”

Rolling his eyes, Hater handed him the bottle once it was completely empty, watching Wander hug it close.

“Why pollute when we can reuse!”

Hater nearly cringed at Wander’s hippy rhetoric.

“Besides,” Wander murmured as he cuddled close under Hater’s jaw. “I can make somethin’ fun out of it!”

“Perhaps a’candle holder, or a centerpiece or _oooh_ , a wind chime!”

“What about a good, old fashioned flower vase, huh?” Hater muttered, more to himself in his own private bid of sarcasm, yet Wander was happy to catch on to the idea.

“Oooh, yes!” Wander squealed with joy.

“I can make it all nice and spruce it up—then we can always remember it for our date!”

“But,” Hater, not expecting Wander to take the suggestion and run with it (much to his own stupidity), grumbled despite himself.

“But I didn’t get you flowers!”

“Well,” Wander sat up, placing the champagne bottle gingerly in a cup holder, before pressing a kiss to Hater’s lips.

“Who says it’s too late?”

“You like flowers?

“A’course I do!”

Hater could feel his pulse quicken when Wander fisted at the edges of his hood again, eyes half-lidded, mouth moving against Hater’s.

“I like everythin’ y’give me, Hatey.”

“Well,”

Though shaking with apprehension, Hater held Wander around the middle, his temples gathering sweat. Hater had thought long and hard about how the evening would turn out—and what type of activities it would entail.

“Then I’m going to get you flowers,” Hater promised as he ran a hand down Wander’s spine, mouth going dry when the little alien purred.

“A whole lot of them. Like, a whole _planet_ of them.”

“I don’t need’a whole planet, silly,” Wander giggled as he leaned back into Hater’s touch, his leg twitching contently with every gentle scratch.

“But I want to, so,”

Hater huffed, pulling Wander up to hug him closer, nuzzling his face into his throat in a means of hiding. He could feel his cheeks grow warm from both Wander’s fur and his own embarrassment.

“So there.”

Wander didn’t argue, or budge for that matter, as Hater nestled deeper into the heat of his neck. Instead, Wander curled in closer, cuddling up against Hater’s ribs with a happy sigh. With the two of them sitting still in comfortable silence, Hater took a few minutes to appreciate Wander’s fluffy coat as he closed his eyes and breathed in deep, relishing the soft and snuggly nomad.

Without moving an inch, Wander was the first to speak up, voice soft with relaxation.

“Y’slept in here every night?”

Unable to speak with a face full of fur, Hater pulled away, instantly regretting the lack of warmth.

“I slept in here,” Hater shrugged, the memories still so surreal, as he stared about the van’s innards.

“Every night.”

Sitting up from off of him, Wander slipped himself lower along Hater’s body, till he was square in his lap again. When his stomach gave a familiar pull, Hater remembered the intentions behind bringing Wander up front, and his imagination kicked into overdrive. Despite his excitement, Hater felt slightly helpless as Wander purred out, low and keen, making his insides feel tight.

“What about Peepers?” Wander’s voice ran low as he straddled Hater, fingers tracing his ribs.

“Passenger seat,” Hater murmured as he took him by the hips again, eyes tentatively switching between Wander’s middle and his face.

“It, uh, depended on who was driving,”

He knew what was coming, or what he _hoped_ was coming, and it was making him feel flushed.

“Sometimes we switched.”

“Oh,” Wander concluded happily, leaning up a little higher, yet still keeping himself seated on Hater’s hips.

“So, uh, the seat?” Wander bit into his bottom lip gently before continuing.

“Does it _really_ go all the way back?”

“Oh, uh, yeah!”

Hater came back to his senses, and just in time. It was getting harder and harder to keep the memories of their last meeting at bay with Wander so close to his crotch.

“Yeah, just, hold on.”

Blindly reaching to adjust the seat, Hater let Wander lay flat along his breast plate, making him very conscious of the little space between them. With a playful smile, Wander reached up to push Hater’s hood from off his skull, furry knuckles lingering as they rubbed along his antennas. Surprised by the touch, Hater’s whole body jerked, hand yanking up the seat handle involuntarily.

“ _HNNG!_ ”

With a squeak of metal springs, the chair jolted backwards, sending both Hater and Wander along with it, bouncing against the cushions in a tangle of limbs.

Now sprawled back against the driver’s seat, the chair’s abrupt propulsion saved Hater the awkwardness of floundering to lay down.

Some what.

Feeling embarrassed, Hater felt his face turn hot, hand still frozen on the handle as he watched Wander push his hat from out of his face. Before he could apologize, however, Wander was laughing, warm and happy, as he sat back up to smile at Hater.

“Well!”

With his hood now pooling around his shoulders, Wander reached up to run a hand along the back of Hater’s skull, throat vibrating heavily.

“Seat certainly _does_ go all the way back!”

“Uh,” Remembering his hands, mainly their lack of use, Hater caressed down Wander’s spine, conscious of the way the little alien eased into his touch.

”Told you?”

Earning him another giggle, Hater felt slightly better, but not by much. With his heart pounding and his jaw clenching, Hater watched Wander sit his hat carefully in the passenger seat, fighting not to sweat. Just when he was starting to worry that he might have put too _little_ cologne on, Wander was leaning close enough to take up the whole of his vision, making Hater swallow nervously.

“Feels like I haven’t kissed y’in forever.”

“Yeah,” Hater reached up, thumbing at the underside of Wander’s chin, feeling his throat vibrate.

“I know we kissed like, ten minutes ago but still,”

Fondness made his chest feel tight as he petted at Wander’s face; now with him in his lap again, much like the last night he spent with Wander, Hater realized how much he truly did miss the star nomad, happy chatter and all.

“I know what you mean.”

“Well,” nudging his cheek along Hater’s, Wander pressed a kiss against the side of his mouth, hand moving low down Hater’s robe.

“We can change that, y’know.”

Wander pressed firmly against Hater, knees squeezing him tight around the pelvis, till he rolled his hips and their groins brushed.

When Wander pulled away to touch him, his fingers had just barely reached Hater’s hip by the time he was half-hard, and Hater prayed that his newly declared boyfriend took no offense.

“Why, Hatey!”

Wander voice was hardly above a whisper as he palmed Hater’s dick through the material of his cloak, pupils wide and dark like they were the last time they were alone in his bedroom.

Feeling shameful, Hater bashfully hung his head. With a timid explanation of, ‘ _hey, you have been gone a while, you are sort of sitting on me, and I’ve been thinking about you_ constantly,’ ready, Wander slid himself across Hater’s lap, till the crack of his ass sat warm and firm above his semi, making Hater’s breath hitch instead.

“‘M flattered.”

Any attempts Hater made to speak were lost on him as he met Wander’s feral stare, seeing his own flustered reflection in the gleam of his eyes. Despite the distraction of Wander pressing pleasantly against his nether regions, Hater felt incredibly nervous, enough to realize that his robes were sticking to him from perspiration. Before he could fret over his gross sweating and ragged breathing, Wander was leaning forward, capturing his mouth with a soft purr.

When Wander kissed him, Hater found it difficult to concentrate on the movement of Wander’s tongue, because he was far more focused on the movement of Wander’s body. Every little fidget from him sent waves of heat up Hater’s abdomen, not at all helping the growing situation between his legs.

“Mmmmm,” When Wander pulled up to sit on his knees, Hater was happy to see him look flustered, chest rising quickly, bangs already messy.

“Would y’believe if I said I’ve been wantin’ t’ _frzzrp_ y’since the moment we got up here?”

Wander flushed modestly, giggling with half-lidded eyes as he smiled down at Hater.

“Yeah,” Hater felt in a daze, and sounded like he was in one, too.

Hovering above him with shiney eyes and wet lips, Hater couldn’t help but think how lovely Wander looked in that moment, feeling lucky, possessive, and needy all at once.

Slowly but surely, with those sentiments in mind, Hater was getting his confident groove back.

“You’re kissing me, Wander, _duh_.”

In between more of Wander’s giggling, Hater reached forward, reminding himself that it wasn’t the first time Wander was on his lap, and (hopefully), not the last, and his hand found the very first weak spot he had ever found on Wander: his stomach, namely the little knobs that rested along it, as he ran staticy fingers through his fur.

With his last giggle hitching in his throat, Wander let out an audible shudder, knots forming in his fur in the wake Hater’s fingers. Feeling a little more daring, Hater dragged even lower, remembering Wander’s excitement from the last time.

Hater pressed the heel of his palm between Wander’s legs to knead, making the nomad’s back straighten and his knees weaken.

“H-Hater!”

Wander squeezed his thighs tight around his hand, making Hater smirk; the time they spent alone in his bedroom together proved just how easily the overlord could tease him.

“That’s my name, Wander,” Even a dull spark between his legs made Wander’s whole body shake, and Hater took great pride in the alien biting back a whimper.

“ _Do_ wear it out—”

Wander practically threw himself at Hater, grabbing him by the hood in a desperate bid to kiss him. Wander’s mouth was near aggressive enough to make Hater’s head spin, yet not enough to quell him from touching between his legs.

Under the material of his glove, Hater could feel the thickness of Wander’s wooly coat twist along his fingers. As he reached a little further back between Wander’s legs, Hater pressed up and felt within the depths of his fur for his vulva, feeling the nomad’s thighs quiver as he grinded eagerly into his touch.

The hyperactive alien lived up to his reputation as he buckled down desperately, rubbing estatically back and forth along the heel of Hater’s hand. Entranced by Wander’s display, Hater was happy to pull back and watch as the little nomad gyrated against his palm.

“Hatey,” Wander was whimpering out his name in a way that Hater was getting used to, whole body trembling as he grabbed at the front of his cloak.

“Wander,” Hater moved his fingers in tandem, feeling a little breathless by the sight of Wander trying to hump his hand.

From between Wander’s legs peeked out a pink bump, looking small tangled up in his fur, but prominent enough to catch Hater’s eye.

By the time Hater stopped his rubbing, Wander was panting, hair messy and feathered out around his neck in a clear state of arousal. It took Hater a second or so to recognize the little nub sticking out was Wander’s cock starting to unsheath itself.

Looking between Wander’s face and in between his legs, Hater raised both brows as he carefully thumbed at his erection, pausing when it made Wander tense up and twist.

“ _AhHHhh!_ ”

Willing himself quiet, Wander looked to be biting his lip hard enough to pinch the skin, knees buckling around Hater’s hand, fingers shaking as he knotted them in his cloak.

Easing his thumb up and down the length of him, Hater found the more he rubbed, the more Wander’s dick responded, growing and hardening from his touch. Eventually, Hater had rubbed enough to coax Wander’s cock from out of him completely, the furry, little traveler now an unkempt, mess.

“Hatey,”

Wander tried again, only to be silenced when Hater took his dick by the base, hand looking so huge against the small, pink appendage.

“Hatey-baby—!”

“Ooh, y’gonna make me,” Wander’s breath trembled as he fluttered his eyelids in pleasure, pupils blown wide, teeth gritting tight as his hands wrung around Hater’s cloak

“Y”gonna make me _you-know-what_ —!”

“Should I, uh,” Hater paused his ministrations, making Wander’s eyes grow wide.

“ _No!_ ” Hearing the demand in his own voice, Wander’s face turned all the more red, making Hater smirk below him.

“I, I mean!”

Another rub up and down Wander’s cock made him melt against Hater’s touch, his shoulders going slack, and the fur of his chest fanning out.

“No, _please_ , Hatey,” Wander slowly smiled, his leg jiggling softly with a single, happy twitch. “ _don’t_ stop.”

With his wanton cries and soft whimpering, the sounds of Wander moaning made Hater’s cock twitch.

Lord Hater was officially completely hard from the sight of the star nomad alone.

Out of curiosity, Hater traced a finger full of static down the whole length of Wander, till the little alien let out a higher pitched cry from pleasure and strain.

“Don’t!” Wander’s fingers twisted headily in Hater’s robe, pulling desperately.

“Don’t, Hatey, _please_ , y’gonna make me—!”

“Don’t stop, or stop!?”

Hater felt generally confused as he pulled his hand from out between Wander’s legs, sighing in exasperation.

“You’re giving me mixed messages!”

“Goodness Hatey, ‘m sorry!”

Free of Hater’s touch, Wander wiped sweat from off his brow as a means of composing himself.

“It’s jus’,”

Wander leaned forward to caress at his ribs, scootching back along Hater’s lower half, pressing his ass along his dick.

“I don’t wanna end the fun too early, is what ‘m tryin’ t’say.”

Again, Hater was conscious of Wander’s weight, how light it may have been, pressing against him in his most sensitive of areas. If the little Wanderer kept it up, for certain the night would be ending prematurely—particularly when he shifted the way he did.

“T-then do you have to, you know,”

Hater shuddered as Wander dragged his index finger up and down the spaces between his ribs.

“Squirm against me!?”

“Hatey~”

Wander purred as he eased himself back and forth, scooting all bits of him across Hater’s dick, from cock, to pussy, to ass and successfully making him buck against his seat.

“Holy,” Hater’s toes dug into the soles of his sneakers as a means of grounding himself, head spinning with pleasure.

“Okaaaaaay, now I _KNOW_ you’re teasing me Wander!”

Hater huffed as Wander chuckled, watching in confusion as the little alien crawled from off of his lap. Easing onto the floor, Wander got down low enough to kneel between Hater’s knees, till he was sitting below the steering wheel.

“Hey!” Hater pouted; just because he yelled at Wander about teasing him didn’t mean he wanted him to stop!

“What gives!”

Wander giggled with a face still flushed from earlier, peeking up cutely.

“‘M sorry, it’s jus’ fun is all!”

Hater felt his dick ache as Wander fluttered his lashes up at him.

“Can y’blame me, Hatey-baby?”

“Yes!” Hater answered without hesitation, despite feeling foggy with arousal.

“Of course I can blame you! You’re going to make me, _you-know_ ,”

Hater gestured at the air, turning green as he sat up a bit in his seat, feeling flustered.

“Too early, too!”

“Alright, I’ll be careful!” Wander’s gaze suddenly slid shyly to the floor as he drew absentmindedly against Hater’s thigh.

“Unless,”

At Wander’s hesitation, Hater raised an eyebrow, instantly curious.

Although suspicious, Hater knew he was baited and hooked, interested in what Wander had to say as he kneeled from in between his legs.

Wander watched him with a shy smile, eyes wide and sincere as he let them ease up the whole of Hater, from shoes to face. It made him feel weirdly exposed, though not unpleasantly, but he blushed nonetheless.

“Unless?” Hater echoed, making Wander shrug modestly.

“What, what is it?!”

“What if we, well,” Although kind, Wander’s giggle made him feel a strange mix of nervous and excited, already having a hunch of what the little nomad was going to ask.

“What if we got _naked_?”

At Wander’s whisper, Hater rolled his eyes, looking unimpressed.

“Oh, you mean, if you took off your _shoes_?”

Hater crossed his arms with a glare, looking down at his robes, and now the tent between his legs. It hardly seemed fair; Hater had a lot more to take off, to _lose_ , than Wander!

“Hey,” Wander sounded playful as he laughed again, making Hater ease up a little. “I gotta take off m’socks, too!”

“Pfft,”

Hater huffed and rolled his eyes, tempted to dismiss Wander, till he felt something brush up against his thigh. Jumping a little in his seat, Hater relaxed when he saw it was merely Wander nuzzling his cheek against his femur. The look in Wander’s eyes, wholesome and sweet, was slowly melting Hater’s reserve, and he couldn’t help but reach out and pet his head affectionately.

“You’re a pain in my butt, you know that?”

“‘M not tryin’ to pressure you,” Wander swore, and just like that night in his bedroom, Hater believed him.

“I jus’ wanna see you, Hatey,”

Before finishing his sentence, Wander leaned up, looking a little bit more mischievous as he openly eyed Hater’s erection. Wander moved closer, enough to slide the apple of his cheek along Hater’s cock, till he could press his lips against him. The way his whole face illuminated in green made Hater’s stomach tense.

“ _All_ a’you,” Wander pulled away, smacking his lips together in a savoring way, as he stared up at Hater.

“If ‘m bein’ frank.”

Perhaps, if Hater had been more coherent, and not staring wide eyed, mouth agape, and thighs tight with want, he might have offered something a little more witty, or brash; something along the lines of ‘ _you’re manipulating me again, you furrball_ ,’ if he could actually make his mind work past the idea of what Wander’s mouth would feel like, his tongue, his throat, what other parts of him would feel like too. Flashbacks of his finger inside of Wander, how taunt and wet he was, made Hater’s dick twitch, as the memories went wild behind his eyes.

“Uh,” Hater swallowed at the inquisitive alien below him, who opted to finger at the material of the driver seat instead, as he waited for an answer.

A more tempted part of Hater reasoned with him; clothes _do_ just get in the way for this type of thing, right?

“Yeah, that’d,” Hater cleared his throat, willing his brain to catch up to the rest of him, mainly the heat between his legs.

“That’d be cool, or whatever.”

Letting out an excited sound, Wander puffed his chest out as he twisted from side to side in excitement, Hater barely able to catch him as Wander scrambled back up onto his knees.

“Can you!”

Hater let out a little groan as Wander nudged his bottom against his erection, both out of pleasure and frustration.

“Now I _know_ you did that on purpose!”

“Sorry, Hatey!” Wander swore as he leaned back against the door, sitting sideways as he undid his sneakers. With his laces undone, Wander raised his leg till his foot was near parallel with Hater’s face, the skeleton glaring in dislike.

“Care t’do the honors, Hatey-baby?”

“And touch your feet?” Hater huffed, pushing Wander’s leg down by the shin.

“Gross.”

“What’s wrong with feet?” Wander asked as he kicked off his shoes, blinking upwards at him sweetly.

“Other than that they’re always sweaty and smelly?” Hater scrunched up his face in disgust.

“What if they’re squeaky clean?” Wander asked as he slipped off his socks, now successfully shoeless, and by his standards, naked.

It was uncanny, strangely enough, to see Wander shoeless; Hater knew he shouldn’t feel weird, since Wander, was well, technically, naked all the time. Perhaps it was because Wander himself defined _this_ as naked, free of his sneakers and hatless, making it strangely intimate in it’s own right. Hater averted his eyes without even realizing, even as Wander asked him a question, struggling not to stumble over his words.

“Ugh, no, can, can we stop talking about feet already!?” Hater shifted uncomfortably as Wander straddled him around the pelvis, trying his best to avert his staring.

“It’s weird! Y-you’re,”

Before Hater could finish his sentence, his sight fell on the nomad by accident, forgetting momentarily what he was desperately avoiding:

Wander, his _boyfriend_ : naked, with his thighs parted, fur fluffy with arousal, dick hard and the lips of his cunt swollen as he watched Hater, needy and breathless, blushing from the overlord’s gawking.

“Um,” Hater laid back again as he grabbed Wander by the hips, finding it harder and harder to concentrate.

“What, uh,”

Hater suddenly didn’t want to call Wander weird anymore; weird certainly wasn’t the word.

“What were we talking about again?”

Wander leaned forward to peck Hater tentatively on the mouth, nuzzling him with his cheek.

“I was hopin’ that maybe I could undress you?”

Hater instinctively tightened his knees up at the thought. Since their first kiss in the Smooch Room, Hater had imagined this moment, what it would be like, what it would _feel_ like, who would be where, where they would be.

Wander’s proposition, the finality and reality of it all, made him nervous, yes, but even moreso excited.

Hater drew his gaze low, finding it difficult to focus on Wander’s face with his prick so pink, flushed and well, _there_.

“Can’t you say ‘ _disrobe_ ’ me?”

Shifting in the front seat in agitation, Hater tried to sound tough, but was doing a miserable job of it.

“It sounds way cooler!”

Giggling kindly, Wander leaned in close to peck a bashful Hater on the forehead.

“A’course I can, Hatey!”

At first, Wander looked to be his usual, gleeful self, but became more subdued as he eased up the brim of Hater’s cloak. Fisting the hem of his robe, Wander’s face looked apprehensive, but with the same unrelenting hopefulness he was always too willing to show.

“Can I disrobe you,”

Hater watched Wander’s cheeks visibly darken as he eyed the spot between Hater’s legs.

“The universe’s most awesomest evildoer?”

Wander’s face lit up once he looked Hater in the eye, his cheeks bunched up high in excitement as he whispered in a sing-song.

“ _Hater~!_ ”

It took everything within Hater not to smile at the sound of his own theme.

Wiping off the hints of his grin with a rub to the face, Hater sighed, but at the very least looked amused.

“You’re _such_ a flarping dork.”

“But!” Wander tried, hopping up and down eagerly, his little cock bouncing between his legs, as he bunched the edge of Hater’s cloak in his hands.

“‘M _your_ dork!”

“Besides, I even made it sound cool! Did y’not like m’singin’, Hatey?”

“Could it use, say,” Wander raised both of his eyebrows suggestively.

“M’ _banjo_ , perhaps?”

Hater rolled his eyes. “Get me naked already, for the love of Grop.”

With a soft squeal of excitement, Wander slowly but surely pushed up Hater’s robe, careful to keep his eyes on his face.

“Y’really don’t like m’banjo, Hatey?”

“Well, I sure as heck used to hate it,” Hater admitted with a mumble.

“Now, well,”

Shrugging his arms from out of his cloak, Hater let Wander shimmy it off and over his head. Sitting in the front seat of the van in just his briefs, Hater already felt naked and of course, painfully green in the face.

“It’s growing on me,” A chill washed over Hater’s bones, his eyes falling nervously onto the tent pitched in his boxers.

“A little. Sort of,”

Hater frowned. “Just barely.”

“Well, s’really a wonderful instrument,” Wander knelt down beneath the steering wheel, busying himself with Hater’s shoelaces.

“Says the guy who digs bluegrass,” Hater narrowed his eyes as Wander slipped off his shoes and socks, mindful to pull his feet away, in fear of being tickled.

“It doesn’t count, you’re biased!”

“Well, hey!” Wander popped his head out from under the dashboard, giving a wiggle of his finger.

“I like all music!” With an affectionate sigh, Wander took a hold of the edge of his boxers, giving them a little pull.

“But there is jus’ somethin’ about the banjo,”

The more Wander tugged, the more tense Hater became, making the mental preparation for his approaching exposure that more agonizing.

“It’s twangy, quirky, upbeat and fun,”

Before Hater could counter with a, ‘ _hey, is this some type of metaphor for, I don’t know,_ you, _Wander?_ ’ his dick sprang from out of his boxers, Wander eyeing it with clear interest.

“What ain’t there t’like?”

With Hater’s boxers in hand, Wander looked at the now shredded article with wide eyes before giggling.

Hater turned bright green from Wander’s amusement.

Feeling self conscious and stupid, Hater reached for his cloak tossed forgotten on the passenger seat with intentions of covering up.

Before he could hunch away in sadness, Wander crawled back into of his lap and took him by the cheeks, leaning in for another kiss. Wander’s tongue was pushing into his mouth in between loud, satisfied purrs, easing Hater’s doubts away, who reached instead to pet and pull gently at his fur.

Moving away for air, Wander nodded towards their clothes strewn in a pile on the passenger seat, his hat included.

“S’jus’ y’boxers,” He gave another small laugh, gently caressing one of Hater’s horns.

“They got lil’ Watchdog’s on ‘em!”

Hater had temporarily forgotten his anxiety over being nude while making out, face turning green again as he avoided Wander’s face.

“Uh, yeah,” Wander ran a hand down the inside of Hater’s spinal column, his eyes fluttering at the sensation.

“I, I know, Peepers got them for me.”

Wander’s giggle was sweet as he pecked Hater on the lips, making his inside melt with something a little more than lust.

“And y’gloves?”

“Oh,”

Hater visibly blanched as he looked from side to side.

“My fake one—it doesn’t freak you out or anything, right?”

“Hatey!” Wander chided him as he shifted closer on his knees, making Hater very aware of the close proximity of their privates.

“I thought we went over this, I ain’t ever gonna judge you, let alone over anythin’ y’got hidden under y’robes!”

“Alright, alright, it was just a question!”

Flustered, Hater reached to pull off his gloves, Wander watching with curiosity. Throwing them sideways onto the passenger seat, Hater huffed and crossed his arms, glancing down at the metal appendage with trepidation. Despite it looking identical to the other, the fact it was artificial still lingered in the back of Hater’s mind, making him feel slightly out of sorts without his gloves on.

“Oh, y’were frettin’ over nothin’, silly!” Taking a hold of Hater’s hand, Wander thumbed at his bony knuckles tenderly.

“But, uh, if don’t mind me pryin’,”

Wander raised both eyebrows suggestively, biting at his lower lip.

“Does it _vibrate_?”

“Uh,” Hater looked at his robotic arm, which made subtle, compressed noises as he moved his wrist from left to right.

“I think so, why?”

“Oooh!” With a loud, elated squeal, Wander sounded strangely excited.

“Was jus’ curious is all!”

Leaning back to take in the sights beneath him, Wander let out an appreciative sigh, pupils glowing green as he eyed Hater’s erection.

“Y’so handsome, Hatey,” Wander carefully dragged his fingers down the lengths of the skeleton’s spine, easing lower and lower, till they skimmed teasingly over his cock.

“Y-yeah?”

Hater fought not to shiver at the fuzzy feel of his fingers, growing spacey when Wander thumbed at the base of his dick, when he brushed against his balls. Wander’s stare, dilated and hungry, was the only thing keeping Hater grounded, as he swallowed back a moan.

“Yes,” Wander pressed himself closer, till his little cock was nudged against Hater’s, looking all the more smaller and cute.

“Very.”

Hater finally switched his eyes lower, reaching for the little alien’s hips to keep him close. Feeling a little more daring from Wander’s praise, Hater eased up against him, creating friction, feeling his own legs twitch at the pleasure of it. Making a quick grab for Hater’s shoulders, Wander hummed, high pitched and needy.

He did it again, this time with a spark running up between them, frotting against Wander with a long groan himself.

Hater started speaking before he could stop himself.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” When Wander simply blinked at his lack of clarification, Hater felt stupid over the own sound of his voice.

“I mean—I’ve been thinking about this, about _you_ , since you last left.”

Wander smiled coyly as he grinded back against Hater, both aliens shivering at the sensation, as Wander leaned forward again to kiss him, with a voice low and affectionate.

“Same here, Hatey,”

Lord Hater watched as Wander blushed, stomach flipping in anticipation.

“I’ve been thinkin’ of, well,”

As Wander reached for his hand, Hater was hit with a serious wave of deja vu; much like the night they spent alone in his bedroom, Wander guided his fingers between his legs to push them up against his vulva, which felt hot and wet to the touch. Digging his heels into the carpet of the van, Hater shuddered as Wander pushed his palm flat against his slit, eyelashes fluttering and body shuddering at the feel of Hater’s touch.

“Been thinkin’ a’you _inside_ me.”

“Me,” Hater stuttered when he looked at where his hand was between Wander’s legs, sliding along the whole underside of him, as he rubbed from dick to cunt.

“Me too,”

With wide and shiney eyes, Hater’s voice was full of pleading.

“Can I do that again?”

“You know,” Hater glanced up at Wander as he fidgeted.

“Go inside you?”

When Wander giggled, it was in between heavy breaths, but he nodded and pushed down against Hater’s hand.

“I, I was afraid y’never ask!”

Inhaling deeply, Hater looked up at Wander’s face and then back between his legs as he slipped a finger inside him, again feeling entranced by the slick warmth, as he moved in and out.

Already, Wander was keening, legs shaking by the knees, eyes heavy with pleasure as he leaned into his hand.

“Hatey, can you,” Wander’s voice noticeably quivered as he spoke.”Will y’jus’,”

“Yeah?” Hater asked earnestly from below, eager to please, and hoping he was doing well enough.

With the experience he lacked, he tried to make up with a desire to learn and a little research of his own. It was tough, though; not even the internet had any searches related to ‘ _weird fuzzy space nomad_ ,’ and ‘ _getting off_ ’ to flip through.

“Can y’jus,” Wander tried again, steadying himself with a hand on the door’s armrest.

“Curve y’finger forward a lil’, jus’—”

Wander didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Hater tried it, crooking his finger as he entered him, smiling once Wander twisted and moaned. A few, good more thrusts inside Wander already had him dripping between the legs, Hater in a near trance as he watched the way Wander’s cock leaked from the stimulation.

“Mmmmm, Hatey?”

Wander looked near dizzy himself as he smiled down at Hater, face hot, fur feathered and fluffy from lust.

“Would it be too much t’ask for, well,”

Wander let out a little whimper as Hater stopped his ministrations, bouncing against the hand still inside him.

“Would it be too much t’ask for more?”

At Wander’s question, Hater withdrew from between his thighs, watching the nomad brush sweat from off his brow. Shifting on both knees, Wander looked antsy as he awaited Hater’s answer, peeking timidly down at his own erection.

“Uh,”

Hater didn’t know what Wander meant, afraid to ask; it would be the perfect opportunity to ask Wander if by ‘ _more,_ ’ he meant the big one—screwing, doing the do, _having sex_ —but Hater was still a little afraid to ask. Not because he didn’t want it—one look at a messy-haired, doe-eyed Wander made Hater remember his painfully neglected arousal—but he was also afraid of imposing, or being rude.

He had to be a gentleman on their first date, at the very least!

“More?” Hater reiterated, running an affectionate hand up Wander’s middle, looking modest even as he gave one of Wander’s teets a pinch.

“What do you mean by _more_?”

“Well,” Reaching for Hater’s chest, Wander ran his fingers shyly along his collarbone, making the skeleton shudder.

Clearing his throat, Wander made himself comfortable back on his lap, letting their dicks touch again, as Hater grabbed him by the sides.

“Lord Hater,”

Hater knew it was serious when Wander used his full name.

“I know it’s the first date, and, and we’re kinda new boyfriends, _and_ we’re in y’ultra awesome, super cool van,”

Wander’s face turned that lovely shade of red it was all too prone to doing when he was shy.

“But would it be too soon t’ask if, y’know,”

“If y’would make _love_ t’me?” Wander’s smile was nervous as it slipped onto his face.

“Tonight?”

Hater hated how hot the question made his chest burn as he sat up a little higher in his seat.

“You, you want to?” Hater brushed his thumbs along the prominent bone in Wander’s hips.

“With _me_?”

Wander leaned forward to kiss him again, arms wrapping around Hater’s shoulders as he purred against his mouth.

“A’course, silly!” Wander pecked him on the nose, the cheek, and the chin.

“Y’m’boyfriend, ‘m more than a lil’ sweet on you,” Wander giggled, brushing his knuckles against Hater’s cheek.

“And I ain’t lookin’ t’make love with anyone else.”

Hater prayed Wander didn’t notice how quick his heart was racing within his ribcage.

“W-well!”

Hater had gotten what he wanted, and didn’t need to ask; Wander did that for him, much to his relief, but the fact that he indeed was going to sleep with Wander still felt all the more nerve-wracking.

“Of course you wanna sleep with me _and_ only me, I’m, I’m me, Lord Hater, _Super Sexy: Extraordinaire_ ,” Hater found himself snorting with nervous laughter as he began to sweat.

“It’s not like I’m gonna share you, pfft, I don’t share my stuff, with anyone!” Hater knew he was rambling but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Why would I share you, you’re _you_ , Wander, my ex-greatest enemy, and my awfully cute now-boyfriend, who is cool—well, _kind_ of cool? You’re _almost_ as cool as me. You’re a close second—but still really, _really_ cool, also pretty weird but as I said before, totally rad _and_ cool, and someone who I wouldn’t share, because _pfft_ , why would I share?! I’m _me_ , Lord Hater, _coolest_ , baddest villain in the—”

A giggling Wander swooped in and saved him with a passionate kiss on the mouth, Hater more than happy to _frzzrp_ instead of babble like an idiot, but the make out was short lived.

“So, um,” Wander trailed his fingers down his sternum as he met Hater with a cautious look.

“S’that a yes, Hatey?”

“Uh,” Hater felt a little stunned as he met Wander’s stare. He tried to answer, but again felt unable to stop himself about thinking how cute the little alien was, with his big, hopeful eyes, furry cheeks and sweet smile, as he gathered air in his lungs.

“Yeah, I wanna make love to you.” With a voice airy and dreamy, Hater made sure this time he didn’t sound so unsure.

“Of course I do.”

“Really!?” Wander looked to holding back a joyful squeal.

“Y’not jus’ sayin’ that, right?”

“No, Wander, I’m not just saying that, so there is no need to ask me 5 times,” Hater groused, thinking with clear disdain about their conversation they had the last evening they spent together.

Wander let out a happy chirp as he leaned in for another kiss, Hater feeling his fuzzy smile against his mouth. It wasn’t long before Wander pulled Hater’s hand close enough to hover along his genitals, sounding lustful as he nudged his dick against his fingers.

“Well, then where were we?” With a thick purr, Wander licked Hater seductively over the lips.

“I’m going to be able to fit,” Hater looked to Wander, from his face, down his middle, to his erection, as he considered his size.

“Right?”

Wander was small—about _three feet smaller_ —than he; what if Hater couldn’t squeeze in?

“Oh, Hatey, if there’s a will, there’s a way!” Wander raised both eyebrows suggestively, hardly containing his excitement.

“Believe me, I’ll make it happen,”

“Granted, it may take a little work. Call it an observation,” Wander looked over his shoulder at Hater’s cock, curved and standing to attention, with a hungry smile.

“But it ain’t like y’small!”

Having heard enough, Hater squeezed Wander gently around the dick and sparked him, hoping to successfully shut him up

“You,” Wander plopped onto his lap as he moaned and bucked, loud enough to nearly drown out Hater’s voice.

“Talk way too much,”

Hater started to jerk Wander off, who smiled lazily through it all.

“I did tell you that, right?”

“Yeah,” The driver’s seat squeaked as Wander scooted back enough to press his ass against Hater’s dick.

“I thought y’were jus’ bein’ a little cranky.”

“ _You_ make me cranky,” Hater murmured, but before Wander could respond, the two started kissing again, hotter and harder than earlier, as Hater yanked him closer by the fur on his neck.

“Really, _really_ cranky.”

“I, I know,” Wander said a little sheepishly, making Hater’s chest twist.

“But y’still _like_ me like me,”

Wander whimpered as he pressed down into Hater’s palm, making his dick bob between his legs. “Right?”

Even through his fervor, Hater could see the nervous, hesitation in Wander’s eyes.

“What type of question is that,” Hater murmured, sounding annoyed, as he ran a hand along Wander’s nipples.

“Of course I _like_ , like you, you’re my boyfriend.”

“I really, _really like_ , like you.” Hater gave Wander’s nipples one last spark before frowning up at him.

“So, can we shut up already and do it?”

Wander’s unease seemed to have faded away at the admission, the alien giggling as he leaned forward to kiss him again, long and needy enough that the only sound in the van was their breathing.

By the time Hater fingered him again, Wander was near dripping on his hand from both of his genitals. Shaking and sweating, the hair on Wander’s scruff stood tall, and his pupils were wide with desire.

“H-Hatey,”

Wander was squirming on top of him, making an already hazy Hater find concentration difficult, especially with the tantalizing display happening right on his lap. Despite being touched very little, there were already a few close calls of him making a mess of both the chair and the rest of the night.

“I, I think it might be best if, if, y’know,”

“Yeah?” Hater pulled his fingers from out of Wander, watching as the alien shimmied further down his lap, till his dick was pressing into the soft fur on his stomach.

“Y-you’re ready?”

“As ready as I think I’ll ever be,” When Wander reached down to give him a stroke, Hater’s breath caught in his throat.

“But we gotta get you ready too!”

“Uh,” Hater looked confused as Wander reached over for his hat.

“W-What do you mean?”

“Y’forgettin’ the first rule about sex, silly!”

Wander giggled as he searched around in his hat’s endless void, only to pull out what looked to be a small, foil square.

“Safety first!”

Hater blinked, looking between Wander and the condom in confusion.

“Oh,” Hater watched as Wander ripped open the package delicately.

“Is that so you don’t like,” Hater’s voice weighed heavily in his throat. “Y’know,”

“Well, I’d rather be safe than sorry,” Wander murmured, looking down to Hater’s dick with interest.

“As much as I love little ones,”

Wander’s eyes switched back upwards meekly.

“S’kinda a’big step, right?”

“Yeah,” A weird sense of disappointment filled Hater, not one he could entirely explain.

Rationalizing Wander was right, Hater shrugged, nodding towards the rubber between his fingers.

“I guess.”

He hardly had time to take a breath before Wander was fitting the condom over the tip of him, Hater twitching at the touch.

“Let’s hope this fits!”

Wander’s eyes were half lidded and his smile sly as he rolled down the rest of it. “Y’are pretty big, after all.”

“Yeah, well,” With it taut on the base of him, Hater leaned forward to give it an inquisitive glance, noticing it was neon orange.

“It’s stretchy.”

Hater whined, quickly hating it.

“And really, _really_ tight, do I have to wear it!?”

“It’ll be worth it, Hatey, I promise!”

Switching his eyes upwards, Wander circled a finger around the head of Hater’s cock, smiling in a way that was pushing the skeleton even closer off the edge, before he rose onto his knees.

“Besides, now y’all ready!”

“And you?”

He could feel the heavy thud of his heartbeat as he watched Wander scooch above him. Making himself comfortable, Wander braced himself on the car seat with one hand for support as Hater watched on in anticipation.

“A-are you ready?”

“I dunno, Hatey,” Wander was using that low, sultry voice of his as he reached backwards, holding onto Hater’s cock to keep it steady as he pressed down against him.

Touching just against the lips of him, Hater already was biting back a groan, as the two of them locked eyes.

“Do y’think ‘m ready for you?”

Wander was hovering from above, legs spread, knees on both sides of the seat as he fisted Hater’s dick, waiting for an answer. With his face pink and his fur messy, Wander could hardly meet Hater’s stare.

Hater grabbed at Wander, nodding silently, with wide, earnest eyes. He barely had enough time to pull in a breath before Wander was pressing down.

Hater could only see the brief strain on Wander’s face before his eyes shut tight because sweet Grop, Wander was warm. And tight, _impossibly_ tight. He only had the tip of Hater’s dick in him and he already felt far too cramped.

“Wander,”

Hater’s voice sounded noticeably tense as he fought to stay still, not wanting to disrupt Wander, or hurt him in the process.

“You better not be teasing me, or so help me.”

It was taking everything within Hater not to thrust up deeper, into the slick, hot space of him, as his hands shook on Wander’s hips. He was finding it harder to think, let alone speak.

“Wander!” Hater let out a whine he couldn’t hold in.

“I, I _will_ destroy you if you’re teasing me!”

“Hatey,”

Finally managing to open his eyes, Hater looked up at the little alien towering above him, watching Wander’s chest rise and fall with every heady breath, as he managed to steady himself on the cushion of the car seat.

Wander was breathing deeply enough for his voice to snag, though of course, even through his audible exertion, he managed to giggle. Whatever Wander was going to say next never came; instead, Hater felt Wander’s cunt bear down around him, till he could fit no more, Wander moaning low enough for the skeleton to feel it vibrate within his ribcage.

Hater saw colors behind his eyelids as he snapped them shut, feeling Wander flex from the inside and his little knees shake against him.

Gasping for air, Hater was afraid he would come right then and there.

“Holy,” Hater’s breath quickened as he opened his eyes, trying his best to stay still.

“Holy flarp.”

Wander laughed again, already sounding tired, but without a doubt content, as he reached to steady himself with a hand on the window. From the condensation gathered from their moans and heavy breathing, Wander’s hand left fingerprints across the glass as his palm flattened against it.

“Holy flarp is right, Hatey,” Wander let out a little mewl as he got comfortable above him, opening his legs wider, inviting Hater to the full view of him.

“Y’feel so big, baby.”

“Y-yeah, well,” Hater felt sweat drip down his forehead as he met Wander’s face, whose pupils were wide enough to blacken his eyes.

“W-well, you’re tight,”

Hater let his eyes trail lower, stare going wide when he could see a dull, green lump glowing in Wander’s middle, resting right along the back of his little, pink cock. Hater’s mouth hung open as he squeezed him by the hips.

“Really tight,” Hater reminded himself to be polite, to hold back and be patient, and not thrust as hard as he could up into Wander, no matter how tantalizing the idea seemed.

“Like, really, _really_ , amazingly, _you’re-driving-me-even-crazier_ tight.”

“Mmmm, well, as I said,”

Lacing both hands in Hater’s ribs, Wander leaned forward, making Hater shift from the inside and in turn, stretching Wander deliciously around him.

Hater hated the pathetic whimper that made its way out of him.

“Y’the biggest in the galaxy, Hatey,”

With a playful smile, Wander dragged a single finger along Hater’s antenna, lingering as he did so, making the overlord’s eyes fly open.

“And I really, _really_ like it~”

Squeezing him around the middle, Hater made sure not to hurt Wander as he continued to lazily drag a finger along his antenna.

“W-Wander,” Hater was near begging.

“You’re going to,” Hater’s voice noticeably shivered. “I’m super, _super_ sensitive there, and, and—”

Wander giggled as he rolled his hips, his insides tightening around Hater’s cock, making the villain gasp.

“That’s the point, silly!”

When Wander repeated the action, Hater’s eyes swam from the pleasure of it, the feel of him flexing against him, the sweet, perfect friction.

“I wanna make y’feel good, Hatey,” Wander whispered as he tossed his head back, looking pleased with the feel of him as well.

“Really, _really_ good.”

Hater let out a breath of relief as Wander pulled his hand from off his antenna to tighten it around a rib.

“Y’don’t want me t’spoil the fun, right Hatey-Baby?”

Wander pulled up just a little bit on his cock before sliding down back around him, making Hater moan low in his throat.

“I want,” Wander did it again, biting his lip and purring, and Hater forgot all about Wander’s teasing.

“I, I want,”

“Holy Grop, I dunno what I want,” Wander’s teasing seemed far, far away as Hater grew lax beneath him, eyes falling closed.

“I just _don’t_ want you to stop.”

Softly, Wander giggled, using his leverage on the back of the car seat to push upwards. Sliding up a few inches, Wander pushed down to take him back in again, till Hater could feel his fuzzy, little ass sit flush against his balls.

“Mmmmm,” Wander let out a soft, moan of pleasure, eyes hazy, but his smile was wide and whimsical.

“Whatever y’say, Hatey.”

Rocking from above, Wander’s pace was slow and careful, but blissful nonetheless. Hater was starting to get the big deal about sex; it was always exciting to think about, a little worrisome and weird, but right now, with Wander’s pussy snug around him, every thrust feeling smooth and fluid, sex made perfect sense as he watched Wander with amazement.

With a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, Wander looked to be concentrating on the rhythm of his work, bottom lip snagged between his teeth as he continued to ride him. Roaming his eyes down the whole of him, watching as Wander bounced against his thighs, Hater couldn’t help but feel mesmerized at how perfect the little alien looked while they fucked.

That’s when Hater’s own body worked on instinct. With his hands still firm on Wander, he felt himself buck upwards, till he was thrusting deeper and harder inside him. Wander moaned, loud and abrupt, eyes opening wide, and Hater could tell by the way he flexed around his dick that it took the Wanderer by surprise.

“Oh,” Hater’s own eyes flew open as Wander trembled from head to toe, instantly fearing the worst.

“Oh, Grop, I, I didn’t mean to, I’m—!”

“ _Ooooh_ , don’t apologize,” Wander smiled as he sighed in content, the fur around his throat fluffing.

“Jus’ do me a favor Hatey and please, _please_ do that again.”

“R-really?” Hater blinked, surprised, as he tensed beneath Wander, still hesitant to reach out and touch him.

“You sure?”

“Oh, I am sure, absolutely sure, I’m so very, _very_ sure,” Wander tone was desperate as he reached for Hater’s hands, putting them back on his hips, as he grinded hard down into Hater.

“Please, Hatey!”

Hater looked to Wander’s face, then back down to his cock, shiney with a little precome before thrusting up into him, his stomach twitching at how loud Wander whined. He did it again, only this time, Wander thrusted back against him, and Hater found himself crying out, too.

Hater knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with how frenzied Wander was becoming. It was getting harder for him to keep up with the excitable nomad, who grunted and whimpered with every thrust inside him. Hater could feel a telling tightness in his abdomen as static gathered low in his bones, hands shaking as he watched his dick nearly slip all the way out of Wander before sliding back into him, the green glow in Wander’s belly looking bigger and brighter as the seconds ticked by.

The evil overlord couldn’t believe it; here he was, in his van, _making love_ to his ex-greatest enemy, Wander.

All those years trying to destroy him, of hating him, to cursing his existence, and now Hater couldn’t imagine spending a day without him. He thought about his giggle, his stupid, corny jokes, his adorable smile.

Hater hardly noticed the way Wander’s fur started to stick up on each end as he rode Hater harder, his eyes squeezed tight, his insides clenching as he began whimpering with every bounce on his dick. Through the harmony of the squeaking seat, and the melody of Wander’s moans, Hater got stuck in his own whimsical, dreams.

And that’s when he started to imagine.

As he closed his eyes and got lost in the pleasure of his oncoming finish, Hater saw images of Wander and he living a happy life together.

Holding hands and skipping through a field of flaming tulips.

The two of them sharing a sundae.

The two of them jamming on stage together, Hater with the mic and Wander on the guitar.

Wander standing behind Hater and holding him by the hands as he helped him with his swing at mini-golf.

Their _wedding ceremony_ , complete with a sobbing Peepers, a bridesmaid Sylvia, and his idol, Major Threat, behind the chapel podium.

Then there were the images of Wander greeting him with a fresh platter of cookies, an apron about his waist, and a whole group of weirdly furry, tiny skeletons running about the Skull-Ship’s kitchen, covered in cookie batter, fighting over a rolling pin and mixers, but all happy in the process, as Wander reached up to kiss him on the lips.

When Hater opened his eyes, he didn’t try to rub away the hearts that throbbed heavily inside of them, as he mumbled to Wander from below.

“I love you.”

A very fuzzy, static Wander blinked from above, his fur raised and tangled in all ends, as electricity started to build up inside him.

“Hatey!”

Wander faltered for a second, tears of joy gathering in the corners of his eyes, before thrusting down again, breath coming out in pants.

“Oh, Hatey-baby, I love you too!” Wander’s pitch bounced right along with him, the mirth of his smile even evident in his moans.

“I-love-you, _ohhhhhh_ , how-I-love-you-Hatey, y’everythin’, Hatey, y’the- _greatest_ , Hatey, I-love-you so, so-much- _Hatey_!”

Remembering both hands were still clutching him tight, Hater took one off to give Wander’s dick a stroke, making the nomad’s cunt tighten and his breath catch. As Wander arched his spine and threw his head backwards, Hater could see the glowing in the fur of his belly flutter.

It wasn’t long before Hater felt the tightening in his stomach give way and he finally came, head falling back, pelvis rising high as he burrowed himself deep in Wander.

What came next, however, Hater hadn’t expected.

Really, he should have figured that when the electricity left his body, it would have flowed into Wander, but that didn’t make the surprise of his boyfriend lighting up like a christmas tree any less, well—for lack of a better word, shocking.

Flickering from green to black, a quivering Wander let go of the backseat and went rigid above Hater, a warbled moan filling the van. With Wander growing even more pleasantly tighter, Hater could hardly stop himself from thrusting erratically up into him as he rode out the last bits of his climax.

After taking a breath to steady himself, Hater disregarded his post-orgasmic bliss as he sat up and shook a now slack Wander by the shoulders, fear quick to take over his enjoyment as he eyed the soot-covered star-nomad.

“Wander,” Hater’s voice trembled with fright as he helped keep a way too relaxed Wander sit upright.

“ _Wander!_ ”

“For the love of Grop, Wander, now’s not the time to play your stupid, weird games, say something, say _anything_ —!”

Wander suddenly coughed, letting out a puff of black smoke, looking exhausted but well sated as he grinned. The last remnants of Hater’s electricity bounced about through his fur, making him fluffier than usual.

“For the love of Grop is right,”

Hater blinked at Wander who, although looking tired and a little singed, sounded just fine, flopping against the steering wheel and sprawling his elbows back lazily.

“Shoot, Hatey, y’didn’ tell me _that_ was gonna happen!”

With Wander looking satisfied and in full spirits, Hater dropped backwards into the seat in exhaustion, letting out an angry sigh.

Another thing he should have considered: of course Wander liked to be shocked during sex, if his nipples were anything to go by.

“CAN YOU _NOT_ SCARE ME WHEN WE’RE _DOING IT_?!”

Hater scoffed at Wander in disbelief, grabbing at his ribs, heart pumping wildly from the exertion of sex and anxiety.

“I NEARLY THOUGHT I KILLED YOU!”

“Oh, no,” Wander let out a happy hum as he pressed his cheek against the cold glass of the window.

“Only death here was _l’petite mort_ , glad t’say.”

“ _DON’T SPEAK IN GOBBLY-GOOK!_ ” Hater hissed at an unfazed Wander.

Throwing out his arms to his sides in exasperation, Hater looked to his hand, which was sticky with Wander’s so called _little death_ , and a few good pieces of his hair, too.

“Ugh, really,” Hater grimaced as he reached down and wiped it across the shag carpet, making all the more hair cling to his fingers.

“Hatey,” Hater went wide eye at the squeal in Wander’s tone.

“That was _amazin’!_ ” Wander took Hater by the face, eyes sparkling despite his fatigue, smile warm and ecstatic.

“Y’really are the greatest _lover_ in the galaxy, too, huh!?”

“Uh,” Hater looked about nervously as he lied.

“Yes?”

“Mmmmm, I felt that one all the way through m’gutty-works!” With an excited trill, Wander rocked against him, making the tender skeleton shudder.

“I can get really used t’this!”

“Wander,” Hater huffed, feeling overly sensitive from inside Wander.

“I’m feeling uncomfortable and all,” Hater huffed, scrunching his face in distaste. “Sticky, can you stay still or get off me already?!”

“Oh!” Wander nodded, pulling off of Hater, face noticeably flinching from the stretch.

“Sorry Hatey, it’s jus’,”

Wander looked down at Hater, still erect, as he smiled with tired appreciation.

“Y’feel _really_ good in me,” Wander giggled as he nuzzled him along the ribcage.

“And even bigger than y’look, too!”

Hater grumbled, looking out the fogged up windshield, the exhaustion from sex falling over him now that his nerves had settled. Wander, who did most of the work, already looked to be nodding off inside him. Resting on his pelvis and now curled up within his ribcage, Wander’s arms and legs were tucked in close, face snuggled along his spine.

Leaning his head back against the seat, Hater was careful to move as little as possible as he got comfortable, not wanting to disturb the little nomad settled inside him.

Staring up at the ceiling, Hater’s hand found Wander’s fur with little thought behind the action, giving him a pet on the belly, making him purr in response. Blinking at the sound, Hater then realized then that, well.

He had done it. His shared his first time, with his ex-enemy, now boyfriend:

Wander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh.
> 
> Yeah, that was that! I hope you guys enjoyed it. ~~Truly, do you understand why I'm such a garbage bag person yet?~~
> 
> Also: yes, the big liberty I took with this fic was Hater's robot arm. IT CAUSED ME--SO MUCH PAIN FAM, I edited that section like, 10 times. I'm aware that technically the glove may be attached to the arm--we don't even know if the parts underneath even look like a regular skeleton arm but guess what, none of y'all commented on it in chapter 3 when he took off his glove so I hope you don't start to now LMAO, forgive me!
> 
> **PLEASE, VERY IMPORTANT NOTE** :
> 
> The next chapter will be starting a little...
> 
> Well, _mmmmm_ , abruptly, because of the stupid way I cut the chapters. That's totally my bad. I'll leave a reminder in the next installment but please, do yourself a favor, I'd read the last few paragraphs of this chapter before starting the next one for a smooth transition.
> 
> Thanks again! Please, comments and feedback are always appreciated <3 Please, don't be shy, say hi on my [blog](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/)! Love y'all, till next time!

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far and read, well, thanks! Feel free to stop by my [blog](http://spacecrunched.tumblr.com/) and say hi!


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